


Aren’t You Something to Admire

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Celebrities, Closeted Character, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fame, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Idol, Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: Former teen idol Sakurai Sho is leading a fairly ordinary life. His idol days are long gone, nothing but a memory. But a new app promises to connect celebrities with their fans through personalized video messages, and Sho can’t help but be a little curious. Who would even want to connect with someone like him…





	Aren’t You Something to Admire

**Author's Note:**

> My goal was to finish something in time for Jun’s birthday and then I ended up writing a story where Jun doesn’t show up until halfway through, go figure. 
> 
> The app in the story, Ganba! Star Support, is entirely inspired by [Cameo](https://www.cameo.com/). Saw [this article](http://www.papermag.com/cameo-personalized-celebrity-videos-2587392333.html) about it and knew it had to become fanfic. A video from Lance Bass costs $150 USD, just for reference LMAO.

It always happened on the worst days. During the busy season where he was averaging 2, maybe 3 hours of sleep a night. When he was coming back from getting a filling at the dentist, mouth still half-numb. Or when he had a hangover, and his face was dull and swollen. That was when people managed to find him. 

It shocked him sometimes, the boldness of complete strangers. He was never dressed differently from anyone else on the train platform. He never thought he gave off a vibe that said “yes, do feel free to approach me.” But apparently they still recognized his face, even all these years later. Even though he now wore a boring suit and tie instead of oversized clothes and a silver stud in his earlobe.

Sometimes it wasn’t even the type of person he’d most suspect, women of a certain age. No, sometimes it was an old man. “Hey…hey, my daughter had your picture all over her wall.” Sometimes it was a snotty teenager. “I saw one of your old videos on YouTube. Those lyrics were pretty dumb, huh?”

Ignoring them never seemed to work. They had that superior tone in their voice, that self-congratulatory swagger that seemed to imply “you ought to be glad I know who you are…since you’re a washed-up nobody to everybody else.” They wanted to be acknowledged, praised for identifying him in a bustling crowd. They wanted a selfie with him they could show off to one of their equally rude friends or family members.

“Hey, look who I saw waiting for the Tozai Line today. Sakurai Sho! You know…Sakurai Sho from…what were they called again…”

They had been called 3 Wishes, mostly because there were three of them, and the company president had thought himself just as clever as the people who tended to approach Sho now nearly twenty years after their debut. They’d been doomed from the start, 3 Wishes. There had been a virtual monopoly on the “male idol group” market in 1999. Groups from Jerry & Associates had all the clout, connections with TV networks, with publishers. Jerry’s made sure their boys were seen everywhere, and they made sure groups from less powerful companies like Sho’s agency, Blaze Talent, were shut out.

Sho’s parents had been opposed to him joining Blaze Talent from the start. He’d been in his first year of high school, and where some boys chose to rebel against their parents by shoplifting or starting fights at school, Sho had thought it would be better to make money while rebelling. In the long run, he wasn’t very tough and didn’t actually have that much to rebel against. His parents had expectations of him, sure, but they weren’t terrible like some other parents in his friends’ circle.

In hindsight, it had been really creepy that the Blaze talent scout had been hanging out near Sho’s school, but he’d said all the right things. We’ll get you in commercials. We’ll get you on TV. We’ll make you popular. Puberty had been a late arrival for Sho, and he’d been looking for any opportunity to show that he was way cooler than any of the guys who liked to call him “Shorty” or “Bean.”

After two years of bit parts in dramas, usually as one of the randoms in the back of the class of some school drama, he’d been chosen for a CD debut at 17 alongside two other Blaze peers. Ohno Satoshi had the voice and the dance ability even if he didn’t quite have the energy. He had always been shy, only staying with Blaze for the regular paycheck. Ninomiya Kazunari had the face and the charisma. Despite the Jerry’s monopoly, Nino had been in a few movies, had been a hit on a variety show giving advice to teen girls. Nino knew how to play the game.

And what did Sho bring to the table? Well, he was taller than Ohno and Nino were. He wasn’t “Bean” any longer by then, although that was just biology, nothing he could attribute to joining Blaze Talent. He liked writing rap lyrics, so he got cast as the “bad boy” of 3 Wishes. His mother had grounded him for a week when he came home with the agency-mandated ear piercing to complete his transformation. “I don’t care if you’ve got a CD coming out!” she’d said. “Now go sort the recycling, it’s your week!”

3 Wishes appeared on the lesser-known music shows. Their photos appeared further to the back of the idol magazines. While a group of un-debuted Jerry’s Juniors sold out the Tokyo Dome, the biggest promotional event for 3 Wishes’ debut single, Majikaru Lamp, had been at the grand opening of a new shopping mall in Toyama. That should have been a sign that they weren’t long for the entertainment world.

Five singles, one mediocre album, and two short tours later, Blaze Talent was bought by a larger talent agency, Verity Productions. They were looking to go “in a different direction.” That was code for “we don’t do idol groups.” Nino and Ohno had both been offered talent contracts. Nino stuck around with Verity for another 4 years before he got too good to be in a second-tier agency. He’d been snatched up by the highest bidder. He’d won himself a Japanese Academy Award despite his “dark past” in 3 Wishes that variety shows liked to remind him of these days. After all, talent was talent. As for Ohno, he’d turned down Verity’s offer and left entertainment entirely in favor of working at a bakery like he’d always wanted. The owner eventually retired, leaving Ohno in charge shortly after he turned 30.

As for Sho, Verity hadn’t offered him anything. Nino was a good actor. Ohno was a good singer. Nobody was really looking for a kid to write rap lyrics. Sure, it had stung. It had really stung, but he’d been set up for failure from the start so it wasn’t altogether surprising. But working in Sho’s favor was that he’d always been a good student, and he got into a good university. He moved as far away from entertainment as he could manage, ditching the earring, picking up a calculator. People in his classes knew who he was, they knew that he was an entertainment world wash-out, and even though he was often the butt of jokes, it got him laid too. 

“It was that whole, you know, persona,” those guys would tell him sometimes, blushing a bit. “I really liked that earring. The bandannas and stuff. I guess that’s how I…figured myself out.”

He learned over the course of those four years in university that he had been responsible for a fair number of sexual awakenings. Ohno could sing. Nino could act. But apparently Sho was the one his fellow closeted boys jerked off to. At the very least, it eased the sting of rejection.

He made it all the way through university, and nobody ratted him out. There’d been an unspoken understanding, despite how juicy the gossip might be. _I got a blow job from the gay one in 3 Wishes_. They kept his secret, he kept theirs. He didn’t make any genuine connections in the romance department, but he graduated with honors from the accounting department and landed a job at a top firm. In the second round of interviews, one of the panelists asked why he had a gap between graduating high school and starting university. 

“I was in an idol group,” he’d explained, realizing they hadn’t done too much due diligence on him. “We put out some music, toured a little bit.”

“Well,” the old man at the far end of the table said without much emotion, “looks like you’ve really turned things around.”

He’d settled into a boring life, a life consumed with work. A lonely life, striking out on dating apps because of bad matches, because of paranoia, because he worked for a conservative company where he couldn’t share all of himself and had been promoted too many times to risk the fallout. Love was something he’d sang and rapped about as a teenager, an abstract concept. An unrealistic fantasy. He learned time and time again that using Grindr on an overseas vacation was just a release, not love. He learned time and time again that if he forgot to take off his Rolex before going to a bar, he’d attract people looking for handouts. Not love.

He still kept in touch with Ohno and even Nino. They knew who he was, they knew everything, and they accepted him. They loved him. It went beyond friendship, beyond family. They’d been through something together not too many people could understand. He was a fan of the cheesecake and pastries at Ohno’s bakery. Nino disappeared off to movie sets and drama filmings for weeks, but then he’d reappear, find ways for them to meet. “You don’t mind being friends with a boring salaryman?” Sho would sometimes ask him.

Nino had never gotten a big head. He hated superficial people, hated a lot of the celebrity lifestyle expectations. Most of his industry friends were veteran actors who spoke their minds and lived simply. “It’s refreshing to meet with you,” Nino admitted. “You don’t want anything from me, Sho-chan.”

Sho understood it. Not to the extreme like Nino probably dealt with on a day to day basis, being hounded by paparazzi, having his dating life scrutinized. But there were still the people on the train platform. The people in the supermarket.

“I know who you are,” they said. “Aren’t you glad I still know who you are?”

Sho understood all too well the price of fame, even a marginal amount of it. So he and Ohno and Nino stayed friends. Not just because they cared about each other, but because they made no demands of each other. Can’t meet up? That’s fine, you’re busy. We’ll try another time. With them, it was easy. With them, he could be himself.

—

But then one day, out of the blue, for the very first time, Nino wanted something from him. 

—

It was rare for Nino to make a call himself. Sho understood it, didn’t resent him for it. His schedule was packed, sometimes it was easier for Nino to have his manager reach out to Sho to schedule a dinner or drinks a few weeks in advance. But in this case, Nino did the work himself.

It was a Thursday night, and Sho was out with some colleagues, complaining about the recruiting department’s slowness in getting a new team member brought on board. His pocket buzzed, and he was surprised to see “Kazu-chan” pop up on the screen. (Nino had taken the liberty of entering his contact details himself; Sho had never bothered to change them).

He excused himself, heading for the hall just outside the restrooms to take the call. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong. Is this a bad time?”

He saw the waitress coming to their table with another round of beers. “Got a couple minutes, how are you?”

“Sho-chan, do the people you work for know about 3 Wishes?”

He blinked, wondering why Nino would care. “Some of them do, but I don’t really talk about it.” 

It was a slippery slope, Sho had found over the years, bringing up his former career. Because certainly a man who used to be a teen idol would have no trouble finding a girlfriend or a wife…

“Do you remember Aiba-chan?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Aiba Masaki was Nino’s childhood friend. Where Nino had gone on to be a famous film and TV star, his friend had dabbled in finance, had a keen eye for where to invest. His big passion was venture capital, throwing cash at tech start-ups. The guy probably had even more money than Nino did, not that you could ever tell. They were both humble, irritated by most of the people that ran in those circles. Just as Nino seemed to, Aiba liked Sho for being normal. Well, relatively so.

“Some new app he’s invested in is launching soon, he wanted to talk to us about it.”

“Us?”

“Me, you, Oh-chan.”

Sho turned away from the bar, heading further down the hall and away from the noisy drinkers. “In what context?”

“It’s not a reunion or anything like that,” Nino assured him, his voice light and casual as it always had been. 

A few TV networks had reached out over the years, mostly to take a look at what had gone wrong with the group. Or maybe reunite them for some late-night program, make them and Majikaru Lamp the butt of some rising comedian’s joke. Nino always politely turned down these jobs before anyone ever reached out to him or Ohno. After all, without Ninomiya Kazunari’s participation there was no point.

The thought of it all happening again, having to get in costumes, to get under those hot lights and fake a smile, it filled Sho with anxiety. He’d worked too hard to get where he was now. Nino was different. To him, it was just another job offer, and all he had to do was say no. He didn’t think too hard about it. Nothing much bothered him, nothing much bothered Ohno for that matter either. But bad boy role aside, Sho had always been “the one who worried too much” anyway.

“Well, what is it?”

“That’s why I’m asking if the people you work with know about 3 Wishes,” Nino continued. “From what Aiba-chan’s explained, we’d be part of the app. Look, I can get you in touch with his assistant, get you a meeting. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, honestly, but at least hear him out.”

“What do you mean ‘part of the app’?” Sho pressed him.

“You don’t have to sing or rap or any of that. It’s just video clips or something,” Nino said. “I’m going over there sometime next week to negotiate, I think Oh-chan’s already signed off on it. Aiba likes his bakery, and I’m guessing he figured Oh-chan was the easiest target to approach about this app thing.”

“Nino…”

“Sho-chan, it’s just a meeting. And my lawyer’s already been going through the preliminary paperwork. Hasn’t found any red flags…”

“Red flags?!”

“I’m going to email you, and you can reach out from there. I know your firm pays you good money, but just think about it. It’s harmless.”

Sho didn’t much like a millionaire like Nino having any sort of opinion or comment on his salary, but he kept that thought to himself. He knew that Nino wasn’t being condescending on purpose. “Is this really all you called me about? An app?”

He could almost see Nino’s smile despite him being on the other side of Tokyo. “Yes, this is really all I called you about. Unless Koizumi forgot to call you about karaoke for next month…”

Sho rolled his eyes. “No, he set that up with me last week. We have to work together this time, you know. If we let Nii-san sing Matsuyama Chiharu songs again…”

Nino laughed. “Be nice, let Oh-chan sing what he wants…”

“I’ll look into this meeting and app, alright? And if I don’t talk to you before karaoke next month, then I’ll see you there.”

“Thank you. Really. If this gets Aiba-chan off my back about it, I’ll buy you dinner. 10 dinners.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Sho headed back to the table. He wondered if anyone in his group would believe him if he told them who he’d just spoken with on the phone. But it was best to just keep that part of his life to himself. Just like almost anything else. The group kept drinking, bullshitting until it was time to head for the train and go their separate ways.

Sho checked his phone on the ride home, briefcase between his legs as he held on to the plastic ring overhead. While he gently swayed with his felllow riders, he found the email from Nino. He’d already reached out to Aiba’s assistant, Koike-san. She’d set up a meeting for Sho that Saturday morning at an office in Tokyo Midtown, asking him to call and confirm.

Magnetik Mobile. He looked them up in the app store. They seemed legitimate, although most of what they’d released so far seemed to be apps for tracking a monthly household budget or calorie counting. What were they releasing that would have anything to do with 3 Wishes? What had Ohno already signed up for? What was Nino considering?

And what on earth did they want with boring salaryman Sakurai Sho?

—

He was surprised that Aiba Masaki himself was waiting in the offices of Magnetik Mobile that Saturday, and Sho immediately felt underdressed in his polo shirt and jeans. Aiba was in an expensive-looking suit talking quickly into his phone, likely making his next deal. But he soon ended the call, greeting Sho with a friendly handshake.

“Nice to see you again, Sho-san,” Aiba said. There wasn’t anything about Aiba Masaki’s overall demeanor that screamed “dealmaker,” but Sho supposed he used that to his advantage. He put you at ease immediately, laughed easily.

“Nino didn’t tell me a lot about what’s going on here, about this app and all.”

“Don’t worry, we’re here to fill you all in,” Aiba said, patting him on the shoulder and guiding him past the reception area and to what looked like a set of executive offices. It was a far cry from the high-walled cubicles and stuffy atmosphere of Sho’s accounting firm. Instead it was a lot of glass, workers milling around in t-shirts or hooded sweatshirts with jeans, and he doubted that was simply because it was a Saturday.

Aiba was the one who looked overdressed as he knocked on a glass door at the end of the hall. Soon Sho was sitting at a table with Aiba and another man, the equally smiling and friendly Kazama Shunsuke, CEO of Magnetik Mobile. Sho learned very quickly that this was just another connection, one of many in Aiba Masaki’s web of money.

Like Nino, Kazama-san was another long-time friend of Aiba’s, and Aiba had been pumping money into Magnetik for years. Kazama barely looked up from his laptop as he got a presentation set up on the screen.

“I really appreciate you coming by, Sakurai-san,” Kazama said, making a few more taps on his trackpad. “We’re moving our company in a brand new direction, so it’s been a fun challenge. But at the same time, that new direction requires me to branch out with people I’m not as familiar with. That’s where Aiba-kun has come in, and where Ninomiya-san has come in as well.”

Sho tried not to fidget in his seat. “I…I haven’t gotten a lot of information about what you’re actually doing here. Nino…I mean, Ninomiya-san, he just said we’d be part of your app. Can you explain what that even means? I’m not sure what you’d need someone like me for…”

Kazama finally looked up, looking at him fondly. “You’re not as forgettable as you seem to think you are.”

To Sho’s left, Aiba let out a snort of laughter. 

Kazama got up, holding a little clicker to advance his presentation slides. He clicked to the first one. There was a picture of a smartphone, the screen showing a paused video of a young, attractive woman sitting in her car waving to the camera.

Beneath the phone, it read “Ganba! Star Support.”

“Sakurai-san, I’d like to introduce you to Magnetik Mobile’s newest game-changing app,” Kazama said. “This is Ganba! Star Support.”

He clicked to the next slide.

This time there were about 10 smartphones, each with a video still. But they were all different people. Some were sitting on a sofa or a chair. A few were in their cars. There was a man that looked slightly familiar sitting in what looked like a green room at a television studio.

“Hold on,” Sho couldn’t help interrupting. “That man, second from the left on the bottom. Is that…?”

“Yeah, it’s Maruyama Ryuhei-kun,” Aiba said. “From the comedy duo Black Orange.”

Sho laughed. “They were big a few years back, right? What was the little catchphrase?”

Both Kazama and Aiba held up their hands and shouted in unison: “Pan Panda!”

Sho nodded, remembering. “Whatever happened to them? To Black Orange, I mean?”

“They’re still around, they mostly appear on Kansai region variety programs these days. You know how quickly duos come and go sometimes,” Kazama admitted. “But I’m really glad you recognized him.”

Kazama clicked to the next slide. Sho read the text, confusion still growing.

_The stars you love delivering messages for the people who matter most. Ganba! Star Support._

“It’s video. It’s all video,” Aiba explained, tapping on the table emphatically. “Magnetik Mobile is partnering with Japanese celebrities. Models. Athletes. Talentos. Idols. You name it. They set their prices or their agency does, whatever. Then someone downloads Ganba! Star Support and pays for that celebrity to record a video message for them, for a family member, a friend…”

Sho raised an eyebrow. “Why would anyone do that?”

Kazama laughed. “Think about it, Sakurai-san. Say that your mother is a big fan of Black Orange. Like…a big big fan, right? And your mother’s birthday is coming up. You can use Ganba! Star Support to buy a message from Maruyama-kun. Within reason, he’ll record himself saying anything you want him to say. He’ll wish Mom a happy birthday, he’ll come up with a pun based on her name, he’ll read her a poem, he’ll wish her health and happiness for the rest of her days. The possibilities are really endless depending on your creativity. Maruyama-kun records a video on his phone or if he wants, on a more sophisticated camera. He sends it to us, and we upload it to our secure server and it’s sent exclusively to you. And of course, if the celebrity is a little uncomfortable with your requested message, they can work with us at Magnetik to get something you can both agree on. And if it doesn’t work out, well, then you don’t pay. You only pay if the celebrity records a video for you.”

Aiba chimed in with more details. “And it’s not just for birthdays. I mean, you could do it for anything. Have a celebrity propose to your partner on your behalf. Or…or have a celebrity sing a song for your child to encourage them to study hard and pass an upcoming exam. It’s really, really exciting!”

As he learned what this new app actually did, Sho could feel his stomach start to churn. This was why Nino had asked him about 3 Wishes, if his company knew that he’d been an idol in his old life. This was what Ohno had already signed up for, to record videos for strangers in exchange for cash. This was what Nino had his lawyer working on. 

Before Kazama clicked to the next slide, Sho held up a hand.

“This is why you brought me here? You…you want me to be one of the celebrities in your app? Aiba-san, Kazama-san…I’m an accountant. I’m not a celebrity.”

Kazama and Aiba exchanged a look, but Sho kept going. He even got out of his seat, moving to the screen. He pointed to the different video screenshots. 

“Who are these people? You’re saying these are celebrities? I haven’t seen Black Orange on a TV program in a couple years. Who are these other people? What’s your criteria for celebrity anyway?”

Sho knew he was bordering on rude, but he was astonished that Ohno Satoshi, a fairly shy and quiet man who ran a bakery, would put himself out there after so many years away from the entertainment world. How much was he planning to charge people? 

“She was in Morning Musume from 2004 to 2006,” Kazama said, gesturing to the first woman. “This man is a pretty popular YouTuber, he’s a gamer, teen boys love him. She’s a lifestyle blogger. We’ve already got a few ex-AKB girls signed on and some of the folks from Terrace House. This actress was in an asadora a few years back.”

“As a major character?” Sho grumbled.

Kazama smiled. “Sakurai-san, I completely understand your concerns here. But think of it from the side of our celebrity talent. The entertainment world is tough. Sometimes the phrase ‘fifteen minutes of fame’ really does apply. A comedian will dominate the airwaves for a year and seemingly vanish. But what we’re trying to do with Ganba! Star Support is give them a new opportunity to connect with fans, to make a truly personal and memorable connection.”

Sho put his hands on his hips, annoyed. Aiba had used his friendship with Nino, and Nino had let him. Aiba was just looking for more celebrities to sign up for the app launch to widen the talent pool. Having a bunch of flash-in-the-pan talents or outright nobodies would make Ganba! Star Support a laughingstock. But Nino was really famous…

“It’s about the money, too. Isn’t it?”

Kazama nodded. “Well, this is still a business. It’s still a negotiation. If, say, Ninomiya-san signed on with us, he could obviously charge more for a small chunk of his time. Someone who’s up-and-coming would charge a little less. But I have to tell you, you can’t discount the power of nostalgia.”

“Which is why you’ve got a Morning Musume idol from over 10 years ago,” Sho said.

“And maybe an idol group that debuted in 1999,” Aiba said, his expression still kind.

“3 Wishes,” Sho mumbled.

“You would set an individual rate,” Kazama explained, advancing a few slides to show a bit more of his business model. “You get 75 percent and Magnetik takes a 25 percent cut of all transactions. But if all three of you agreed to sign up for Ganba, you could record videos together, all three members of 3 Wishes. It could be a tremendous opportunity.”

“I’m not in need of money, Kazama-san…”

“Think of your fans out there, Sho-san,” Aiba continued. “You might think everyone forgot you. But as Kazama-pon said, you can’t ignore nostalgia. Just imagine some girl out there…well, a woman now probably. She went to all your concerts, she bought all your songs. And then 3 Wishes disbanded, and it broke her heart. Think of what it might mean to her to simply get a video of you wishing her a happy birthday. That takes what, 10, 15 seconds of your day? But to her, hearing your voice…seeing your smile again after so long, think of what that could mean to her.”

Sho sighed, not really caring if it was going to earn him a tongue-lashing from Nino for being so cold to his ridiculously wealthy friend. “Is that how you tricked Ohno-san into signing up?”

“It’s not a trick,” Kazama assured him. “You’re not the only person who questioned the concept. But do you ever search your name online? On Twitter or message boards?”

He said nothing. There was no point in denying it. Not that he did it all the time, but if he was home alone, drinking…couldn’t find a match in a dating app…

“You should see what old 3 Wishes merchandise sells for on auction sites, Sho-san,” Aiba continued.

“Why would I want to make money off of their feelings?” he asked quietly. “Why would a nobody like me put a price on that?”

“You received money in the past for profiting off of their feelings,” Kazama pointed out. “CDs, singles, concert tickets, merchandise. Magazines. It was your job. How is this any different?”

“I’m not a celebrity anymore.”

“And we’re telling you that isn’t true,” Aiba insisted. “People still ask you for autographs, right? People still approach you on the street?”

“Well…sure…sometimes…” He shook his head. “But they’re rarely my long-lost fans. They’re usually…”

“Assholes?” Aiba asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Sho nodded.

“We vet all the requests before they come to you, Sho-san,” Kazama said, voice calm. Who knew how many Z-list celebrities he’d given this pitch to so far. “We don’t send any requests designed to insult you or make fun of you. Sure, requests might be a little silly, but we’re not going to send you any requests that will reflect negatively on your character or reputation. And we understand that you have a day job, a regular job. My legal department is happy to cooperate with the one at your company if there’s any issues with your participation in the app.”

Ohno and Nino were pretty much on board. Of course, he knew Nino wouldn’t be too mad if he didn’t participate, but suppose the app launched with the two of them. People out there might wonder what had happened to the third member of the group. People might wonder where Sakurai Sho ended up. They might search for him, find out about his job or other things that were none of their business. His lack of participation in Ganba! Star Support might cause him more trouble than signing up would in the first place.

He didn’t have to honor people’s requests anyway…

“Can I have some time to think about it? When are you launching?”

“We have a soft launch in two weeks, a bigger rollout campaign two weeks after that,” Kazama said. “While we’d of course love to launch with a sample message from 3 Wishes, I completely understand if you’d like more time to consider being a part of this. Just do this for me, if it’s not too much to ask. Google yourself tonight. See what you find, good and bad. And go from there.”

He got a few more details about the app, about the content and participants. He shook Aiba’s hand, shook Kazama’s hand, and left with a copy of the talent contract in a Magnetik Mobile folder.

He tossed it on the countertop with his keys as soon as he got back into his apartment, deliberately ignoring his laptop. To avoid thinking about it, he got into a cleaning frenzy. By the end of it, his bathtub had never been so sparkling, the burners on his stove had never been so glistening.

But there it was, on his sofa, teasing him. His laptop, his connection to the wider world. To proof that he was loved, that he was hated, or that he was just as forgotten as he’d always figured.

He sat down, crossing his legs, scratching anxiously at an itch on his thigh. 

He first ended up on the talent agency website for Osaka’s comedy duo, Black Orange. Their list of upcoming engagements was rather slim, but there they were, the two comedians. Still working. Not giving up. And at least one of them was going to make their fans smile and earn some cash on the side. Maybe in Black Orange’s case that was food money, rent money, something to toss into savings in case things really did dry up for good.

Sho shook his head. He had a good job, a good place to live. Food in his belly. Friends. Decent colleagues. The occasional jerk who liked to take a photo with him on his worst days and post it on Twitter, probably to make fun of him. 

Hmm.

He could hear Kazama’s voice. Aiba’s voice. People taking pictures of Sho, whether with his permission or not…once it was done, it was out of his hands. It was out of his control. But with this app, he had a choice. He decided what the Sakurai Sho narrative was. He would take the video. He would choose the lighting. He would choose the words to some extent. And unlike his dealings with the “gotcha!” and “told you so” kind of people who usually approached him, maybe he could make someone happy. 

He could make someone genuinely happy. 

He did as Kazama said, typing his name into Google. He found message boards dedicated to 3 Wishes. Fan websites. Many were inactive, lost to time and other hobbies. But some were still around. 

“Without 3 Wishes, I might have never met my best friends,” one visitor wrote. 

“The music of 3 Wishes got me through a difficult time in my life.” 

“Thank you, 3 Wishes. Thank you, Nino-kun, Ohno-kun, and Sho-kun. Though you will never see this message, though it’s been so long since I first heard Majikaru Lamp, from the bottom of my heart, I’m happy to have been your fan. Always and forever I am your fan. Love, Yuki.”

A few highballs later and he was in his bedroom, digging out the shoebox from the back of his bottom dresser drawer. Fan letters. The agency had always done a good job weeding out the inappropriate ones, which left Sho with a collection of innocent hopes and dreams, love and devotion. He did his best not to tear up in gratitude, but the alcohol was making things a bit tough.

His fingers drifted over different handwriting, heart stickers affixed to stationery and their envelopes with care. These girls were women now, many probably had children of their own. Sho’s life was different. Their lives were different. Who’d really want a happy birthday message from a boring uncle like him?

_Always and forever I am your fan._

He downed the rest of his drink, chuckling to himself.

“I’m gonna regret this.”

—

Of course, he eventually sobered up.

But then he had expected his company to put up more of a fight. He’d actually been relying on it, the idea of telling Kazama he’d love to participate but his company had said no.

He informed only those who really needed to be informed. His manager, the human resources department, and the legal team. He’d given them all of the paperwork and contracts that Magnetik Mobile had provided, hoping they’d find some sort of problem that would prevent an employee of the firm from a side hustle like this one.

“So long as none of the videos you produce mention or affect the reputation of the company and the revenue you earn is reported to the government, we don’t see any reason why you can’t participate,” the woman in human resources told him. Then she’d leaned forward. “Please forgive me, Sakurai-san, but I was Ohno-san’s fan. Maybe I’ll pay for him to sing me a song for my birthday.”

He’d left without saying anything.

He turned the paperwork in the following Saturday. Kazama informed him that Nino was too busy to record a 3 Wishes trio video with all of them, and Sho had never been so happy that his friend was a famous movie star. “Maybe another time,” he’d said, feeling nervous as Kazama’s assistant took the paperwork off to be co-signed by his legal team.

This was really happening.

“Anything else we need from you, we can reach out by email or phone. We understand your regular work obligations come ahead of Ganba! Star Support, so all we really need from you pre-launch will be a headshot for your booking page. Doesn’t have to be a professional photo, just however you want to present yourself,” Kazama said.

“That’s it?”

Kazama smiled. “That’s it.”

—

“What about this one?”

“Looks fine.”

Sho swiped to the next picture. “Well, how about this one?”

“Looks fine,” Ohno Satoshi said again the next afternoon. He closed early on Sundays, usually to sleep or go indulge his fishing hobby, but that day he’d allowed Sho to barge into the apartment he owned over his business to harass him about pictures.

Sho frowned. “I don’t know, should I be wearing a tie? Is that too formal?”

“Probably,” Ohno said, having a sip of beer.

Sho looked up from his phone, saw the wicked sparkle in his friend’s eyes.

“Will you take this seriously? This photo will be available for anyone who uses the app to see. The last time I had my photo taken for an idol magazine, I was 19 or 20 or whatever.” 

He swiped through the other 58 selfies he’d taken just that morning, agonizing.

“I look like a creep,” he moaned, tossing the phone onto Ohno’s table and leaning back dramatically.

“No, you don’t,” Ohno assured him, though chuckling at the same time. “You’re a handsome guy, Sho-kun. Why don’t you use the profile picture that works the best for you on those gay apps?”

Sho scowled at him. “I’m not trying to get a date. I’m trying to present myself in a professional but approachable manner.” 

“All the pictures you showed me were fine. You look fine.”

“And what picture, may I ask, did you submit of yourself, Satoshi-kun?”

“Hmm.” Ohno dug his phone out from his pocket, showing him a rather boring picture of himself from what was clearly a photo booth, staring straight at the camera in a plain black t-shirt. No smile, no frown, no nothing.

“This looks like a passport photo.”

“It looks like me,” Ohno scolded him. “This is what I look like.”

“You don’t look like a celebrity though.”

“Kazama-kun said it was fine.”

Sho pinched the bridge of his nose. Some people never changed. He remembered that Ohno had always been the bane of a photographer’s existence in their photoshoots. Magazines had been kind enough to describe the teenage Ohno Satoshi as mysterious or aloof when in reality he was just bored, preferring dancing to any other idol pursuits and requirements.

He grabbed his phone back from the table, sighing heavily as he started over from the beginning of his selfie extravaganza. Ohno remained unhelpful, but as the afternoon wore on, Sho managed to whittle down his selection to three pictures.

He swiped back and forth among them, back and forth among them.

Suddenly he felt warmth by his ear. Ohno had grabbed hold of his earlobe, was giving it a playful tug.

“What?”

“I mean, I see you all the time, Sho-kun. I’ve gotten to watch you grow up. But people might recognize you better if you put your earring back in. Maybe you’d get more money if you put it back in.”

Sho batted his hand away. “Company dress code forbids earrings on men. It’s closed up anyway.”

“What about a clip-on one? Or like…don’t they make magnetic ones?”

“I’m not that guy anymore,” he admitted.

“I guess not.”

They were quiet for a while, the comfortable silence that came with knowing someone for more than half his life. He finally picked the picture of himself that he disliked the least, attaching it to the email draft he had ready to go, sending it off to the marketing team at Magnetik. It was all out of his hands now. 

The app would launch soon, and Sho would be there alongside Ohno and the other washed-up celebrities of Japan. He’d give it a few months, and if nobody requested any videos from him, he’d simply cancel his contract. There’d been a clause in there about it, being able to cancel if his account saw no activity in a certain timeframe.

He wasn’t sure what would frighten him more - getting requests or not getting any at all.

“How much are you charging anyway?” Sho asked him. “For a video, I mean.”

“1000.”

“That’s it?” Sho cried.

Ohno shrugged, having another sip of beer. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You take home 750 yen per video since Kazama’s taking 250 for his company. Doesn’t that seem low?”

“For a short video of me saying happy birthday to a stranger?”

“You’re not gonna put in any effort at all?” Sho asked him.

“Luckily for me, it’s in character, right?” Ohno flashed him his most disingenuous idol smile. “Ohno Satoshi, the idol that’s not really an idol. I may as well own it in my old age too, right?”

“You’re 37, I’m 36, and I don’t want to hear ‘old age’ again,” Sho mumbled. “I’m asking for 2000 yen per video. Then I get 1500. I figure that buys me a few lunches.”

Ohno snorted. “You know, Nino’s charging 50,000 yen. Who does he think he is?”

“That seems low to me,” Sho replied. “For a superstar.”

“You know he’s gonna be even lazier than me. He’ll probably just hold up a sign that says ‘Happy birthday’ and make his manager film him holding it while he’s reading his script or something,” Ohno complained.

“I can see people paying 50,000 yen for that,” Sho admitted.

“Ugh, me too.”

“I’m going to buy an Ohno Satoshi video as soon as the app launches,” he said. “I want to see what 1000 yen will get me.”

Ohno chuckled, comfortably leaning his head against Sho’s shoulder. “What’s your message request gonna be? It’s not your birthday any time soon.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Well, maybe I’ll buy a Sakurai Sho video, see how far my precious money can go. Will you do a striptease if I pay for it?”

“No.”

“Will you say ‘Ohno-san, you’re my favorite fan, I love you’?”

He laughed, elbowing his friend gently. “I wouldn’t say that even for 50,000 yen.”

Ohno clicked his tongue. “Celebrities these days, so far up their own ass…”

—

One of the junior associates fucked up a client account a few days later, and Sho missed the initial launch of Ganba! Star Support while he and a few other members of his team stayed late night after night to clean up the mess. He spent a good amount of time on damage control, treating the clients to dinner, soothing fears and assuring them that he was doing everything in his power to get things back on track.

He mostly came home to sleep and shower, juggling the one client dumpster fire with all the other accounts he was supervising. But while days like those were frustrating, Sho welcomed the challenge. He’d always figured that if he’d been able to smile and perform in front of a few thousand screaming girls, he’d do well under pressure in a far more normal workplace. And he always did. 

Sho also welcomed the distraction. He’d received an email notifying him that his “Booking Page” was now live in the app, but beyond that, he’d been able to ignore the fact that he was out there, exposed completely. Well, at least to the people who downloaded the app. As far as Nino had told him, it was rare that Aiba Masaki made a bad investment, so Sho doubted that Ganba! Star Support was going to tank immediately.

It was another week before he really thought much about the app again, going through his personal email to discover that he’d actually received a request. It sat there unread in his inbox while he made himself dinner, while he took a bath, and while he decided to ensure that the DVDs on his shelf were properly alphabetized.

“You’ve gotta look at it,” he told himself, finally moving back to his laptop when he’d run out of ways to procrastinate. Who knows, maybe it was just a bullshit request from Ohno. Or maybe even Nino.

He checked his inbox again. _You have a request from a Ganba! Star Support user! Click and earn today!_

He clicked.

 

_Hey there, Sakurai Sho (Talent ID: 3wishes_sho),_

_A Ganba! Star Support user would like a video from you: Kazue F_

_Here are the instructions the user provided:  
Sho-san, hello. This is my first request, so please forgive me if this is something you would not like to do. My husband Masaharu is a lawyer, and he has a tough court case coming up. I was wondering if maybe you could offer him some words of encouragement. When we got married, I finally got rid of a lot of my old idol merchandise, including 3 Wishes stuff. I was so sad to do it, but I’d love to see a video from you. I hope you are well and wish you happiness. Thank you for reading my request._

 

He couldn’t help grinning. He suspected Kazue wanted this video more for herself than for her husband, but that didn’t matter. She was polite. She had wished him well. And nothing about her request was going to embarrass him. Kazue had 2000 yen counting on him to cheer her husband on. Despite all his qualms about Ganba! Star Support, he couldn’t help wanting to answer the request. Wanting to make Kazue F happy.

Sho got to his feet, getting out his phone. He turned the camera on, pointing it at himself. “Masaharu-san! This is Sakurai Sho. On behalf of your wife and myself, I sincerely hope that you will be victorious in your upcoming court case!” His smile faltered, the recording light capturing the seconds of awkward silence. “I…I know that things can be hard…but I also know that justice will also prevail!”

He paused again. Wait, Kazue F hadn’t said what kind of court case it was. She didn’t say who her husband was representing. What if he was on the bad guy’s side? Sho stopped the recording, angrily deleting it.

He stomped across the floor, moving to the bathroom and turning on the light. Hmm, he thought, running a hand through his damp hair. He looked like a slob. His t-shirt was well-loved, and there was a hole right above his left nipple. He needed to shave. There was a bit of spinach between his teeth. Awful, awful, awful!

He couldn’t just throw something together lazily. It wasn’t his way. For all that he’d agonized about Ganba! Star Support, now that he had someone that wanted his help, he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing them. Even a complete stranger.

He waited until the next morning when he was at work. He’d stayed up late writing his scripted response. By 1:00 AM, the scripted response had become rap lyrics, and here he was now in an empty conference room at the office, feeling more confident in one of his suits. He’d found a selfie stick in a drawer at home that he’d used on a vacation, using that to film himself at an angle he preferred that didn’t give him an extra chin or show his pores or pimples in too much detail.

He recorded four versions of the “Masaharu, Do Your Best” rap in six minutes before detaching his phone, folding up the selfie stick, and returning to his floor. Nobody seemed to have noticed that he’d been gone. He stayed late checking others’ work, walking in the door after 9:00 to go over the potential responses in the privacy of his own home.

Did he look a bit silly, sitting at a conference table in a suit and tie and rapping? Sure. But he looked well put-together, he looked cheerful, and the backdrop behind him was a blank white dry-erase board. There was nothing that would really identify where he was, and he was sure that Kazue F would get a kick out of it. It didn’t much matter what the husband would think of it.

He played them all a few more times before settling on what he thought was his best performance. He then emailed it to the Ganba! Star Support address as they’d instructed him. Kazue F would receive her video in the next 12 hours or so. Not such a bad turnaround time.

It was two days later that he checked his bank account and discovered that a whopping 1,500 yen had been deposited from Magnetik Mobile. It was real. He gathered the courage to log in to the app and check the Sakurai Sho of 3 Wishes Booking Page. His account was tagged as “idol” and “musician.” It noted that “Sakurai Sho has created 1 video.” And then scrolling down, he sucked in a breath when he discovered there was also a “Reviews” section on his page now that hadn’t been there before.

But his fears were unfounded. Ganba! Star Support user Kazue F had already given him a rating of five stars out of five.

_Sho-san, thank you!!! Your personalized message for my husband was so creative and clever! You truly went above and beyond to show support. Amazing!!!_

The “Masaharu, Do Your Best” rap had been a success. He’d made someone happy. Even if nobody ever requested him again, he’d made a small difference in a stranger’s life. And it felt…well, it felt great.

He closed the app, unable to keep from smiling.

—

“What do you mean a few hundred?” Sho cried, voice echoing through the microphone.

Nino took a sip from the strange pink frozen cocktail he’d ordered, looking almost evil as the colored lights swirled around the karaoke room they were sharing.

“Nino, what do you mean a few hundred?” he repeated, setting down the microphone as Ohno continued his slow, snooze-inducing Matsuyama Chiharu tribute.

Nino tugged his phone from his pocket, setting his goofy drink down and patting the seat beside him. Sho moved over, sitting close as Nino opened the Ganba! Star Support app. There it was, the Ninomiya Kazunari Booking Page, tagged with “actor” and “idol” and “musician” and “gamer.”

“Ninomiya Kazunari has created 327 videos.”

Sho started to laugh, a little too buzzed to really calculate how much money Nino had made off of the app in the two months it had now been available.

“When did you have time to make all of those?”

Nino set his phone aside. “I can always make time for my devoted fans.”

Sho leaned back, thumping his head against the wall. “I’ve only made 11.”

“That’s good, Sho-chan,” Nino praised him. “You work hard on them, right?”

“Yeah…”

He probably put in more work than he ought to, considering he was still only charging 2000 yen a piece. His last video had been almost a minute and 45 seconds long, created for a fan and teacher asking him to compose a rap for her history class about the Sengoku period. His unwavering five star rating was a current point of pride.

But there was no way Sho, a nobody, would get 327 people to pay for him. It was pointless to compare himself with a star like Nino. But sometimes Sho wasn’t always willing to accept logical conclusions.

“That guy’s only made 4, you know,” Nino said, pointing at the back of Ohno’s head. Ohno probably heard him but kept right on singing, unbothered.

“How many people have asked for him?”

Nino shook his head. “I…I don’t know…”

“An Academy Award winner should be a better liar,” Sho complained. “Acting, you know.”

“I’m not lying. You’d have to ask him.”

Sho didn’t need to ask. Nino had inadvertently given him the answer already. It had been more than 11 requests, that much was obvious. Sho had received 11 requests and had fulfilled 11. He’d done good work, but after a few drinks, it was still a tough reminder. He’d always been the least popular member of the group. Verity Productions had certainly known it.

Their room reservation ended at 11:00 PM, and they bid Nino farewell, watching him put on his hat and glasses so he could head out the back door to where his agency driver was parked, waiting to take him home. As for Ohno and Sho, they took the cramped elevator down to the normal people exit, and Sho paid since it was his turn this time. 

They had different trains to catch, so he and Ohno parted ways. It was a bit of a challenge on the train, balancing the box of leftover croissants from Ohno’s bakery in one hand and his phone in the other aboard the cramped subway car, but checking his Booking Page in the app was a good way to sober up on the way home.

He stared at his five-star ratings, at his reviews. Every single person he’d made a video for had thanked him. One had even left kind remarks saying that Sho’s videos were the best on Ganba! Star Support. So maybe the number of requests didn’t matter. The reactions did. 

He logged off a few stops before his transfer, shutting his eyes and listening to the muffled conversations of the people around him. His phone vibrated with a new email, and he sighed. Had Ohno left something behind at the karaoke place? 

He waited until he got off the train before checking it, standing on the platform with the croissant box tucked under his arm.

_You have a request from a Ganba! Star Support user! Click and earn today!_

Number 12, he thought, a little distressed that fulfilling another video request could elevate his mood so quickly. He liked validation, liked the praise he received for a job well done at work. But he was getting a bit worried about the hold this stupid app was having on him.

 

_Hey there, Sakurai Sho (Talent ID: 3wishes_sho),_

_A Ganba! Star Support user would like a video from you: Shun O_

_Here are the instructions the user provided:  
Hello, Sakurai-san. My friend Jun is turning 35 on August 30th, and I’m hosting a surprise party for him at a bar in Ginza. It’s called the Papaya Lounge, nothing fancy. They’re on Yelp. Anyhow, I know this is a strange request, but I was hoping you could drop by the party. We’ll be there after 9:00 PM on the 30th, come any time. You don’t have to stay, no pressure, no need to sing or do anything but show up. Jun is literally your biggest fan from back in the day, I’m not joking. I know this app is about videos and all but I thought I’d give it a shot. Probably gonna get in trouble for this LOL. Thanks just for reading this and hope to see you there. No problem if you can’t make it, I know it’s a long shot and that this probably sounds like a trick. No need to reply to this with a video, I’ll still send the payment through. And I’ll pay for your drinks and transportation if you do drop by the party. Appreciate it. Take care. Shun._

 

Sho read the request another 3 times before remembering he still had another train to catch. He shoved his phone in his pocket, hurrying to the other platform. If he read it again, he’d just get all the more confused by it.

No video? Face time at a surprise birthday party for a 35 year old guy? A 35 year old guy who was _literally your biggest fan from back in the day_?!

He got back to his apartment, kicking off his shoes and leaning against his kitchen counter, munching ferociously on a buttery, calorie-laden croissant while he read through Shun O’s request a few more times. He was just brushing the crumbs off of himself when he realized that another email had come in earlier. 

It was from Ganba! Star Support Customer Service.

 

_Sakurai Sho-san,_

_According to our records, an inappropriate request may have been emailed to you earlier this evening from a user named Shun O._

_Magnetik Mobile prides itself on our careful vetting of all video requests from users of the Ganba! Star Support app. In this instance, we did not perform up to standards, and we sincerely apologize. This request was approved in error, and we ask that you please disregard it. The user has been permanently banned from our service for violating the Terms and Conditions, and the request has been deleted from our system. We are sorry for the inconvenience and assure you that measures are being taken on our end to determine how this inappropriate request got through and which employee’s negligence resulted in you being inconvenienced tonight. Please feel free to reach out to me or to our CEO Kazama Shunsuke at any time for any additional information or clarification on this matter._

_We truly value your participation in Ganba! Star Support and hope to continue our partnership despite this inexcusable error._

_Best regards,_  
Tachikawa Ryosuke  
Lead GSS Talent Liaison, Magnetik Mobile 

 

Ah, he thought. No wonder. But the last thing Sho wanted was for some intern fresh out of college to get fired for a simple mistake. It wasn’t like any part of Shun O’s request had been rude or insulting. Sure, it was an inappropriate use of the service, but no harm was intended.

Sho wrote back to Tachikawa, copying Kazama as well as Aiba Masaki just to make sure they had a record of this. He accepted their apology, let them know he wasn’t angry or upset. He thanked them for quickly identifying the error and expressed his hopes that the person responsible would not be reprimanded too harshly. Sho supposed if he was someone of Nino’s stature that he’d have more cause for concern that a request like Shun O’s got through. But Sho wasn’t of Nino’s stature. Apparently he wasn’t even of Ohno’s stature, even if Ohno himself had only made four videos out of who knew how many requests.

He moved to delete the request from Shun O before heading to bed, but after reading it a few more times, he couldn’t help his natural curiosity. This was just one example of a request that Magnetik Mobile would normally block. He found himself wondering…what other sorts of requests had come through? What kind of crazy shit were people asking for? Asking Sho to put in an appearance at a birthday party was relatively harmless. The stuff sent in for Nino probably bordered on insane in some cases, highlighting all the darkest sides of fan life.

He changed for bed, setting his alarm for the morning and turning out the light. He made it three minutes before putting the bedside lamp on and looking at his phone again. He searched for Papaya Lounge, Ginza. Good reviews, private rooms available for parties and special occasions. It was a legitimate establishment, and it was in a busy neighborhood. Based on the wording of Shun O’s message, he didn’t get the impression that this was a scam. A message sent out to a bunch of celebrities trying to take advantage of them.

If it was a scam, Shun O might have wanted to meet him somewhere else. Somewhere more isolated. Not at a fairly well-known establishment in less than two weeks. If Shun O was looking to scam him, he’d have wanted to meet tonight. Tomorrow. Planning something this far in advance…it simply rang true. It seemed legitimate. A little strange, but legitimate.

Go to bed, his brain warned him as he swiped through photos of cocktails and patrons at the Papaya Lounge. Magnetik said to disregard it. And a quick look at his calendar revealed that August 30th was a Thursday night. He had work the following morning, he didn’t need to be showing up at a strange party. University Sho would have been thrilled with such a strange invite. Why not, University Sho would have said. Just go and say hi to this guy if he was such a big fan.

But he wasn’t University Sho now. He was Adult Sho with responsibilities. And common sense to boot.

Right?

Go to bed, his brain warned him again and this time the lamp stayed off for the rest of the night.

—

“You’re gonna get robbed!” Nino jokingly shouted on the evening of August 29th, voice roaring through the speakers of Sho’s laptop. He was waiting for the crew to adjust some lighting, so Sho had been able to steal 20 minutes of his time after sending a text to him earlier in the evening.

“He’s not gonna get robbed,” Ohno chimed in. Unlike Nino, who was on set somewhere in Aomori filming that week, Ohno had come over to Sho’s place for dinner. “He’s not.”

“I read the email you forwarded,” Nino continued, sitting cross-legged on a sofa in some waiting room, an array of fancy actor drinks on a small table beside him. “The email you also told me that Kazama said to delete!”

“Well,” Sho said warily, “it wasn’t Kazama, it was someone from the human resources, talent management something or other but…”

“You’re gonna get murdered, Sho-chan! This is how those crime shows start. I should know, I’ve starred in one or two of them. It starts with the naive starlet showing up at a stranger’s loft apartment…”

“It’s a bar. A well-known bar,” Sho reminded him. “And I’m not a naive starlet.”

“She shows up at the well-known bar, and she goes ‘Hello? Is anyone there? Gee, it’s too bad nobody knows I’m here. I’m ready to be murdered now’ and then in the next scene I show up wearing my police sunglasses and my police armband, ducking under the police tape so I can watch as her body is pulled from the river. And then I take off the sunglasses and make a very serious acting face because this son of a bitch has now murdered four women in two months. I know how this ends, Sho-chan!”

“So dramatic,” Ohno muttered, just loud enough for Nino to hear him.

Sho grinned. “I scouted ahead, okay. I went and had a drink there the other night after work, sat at the bar. Nobody’s going to rob me or murder me there.”

“You like that this guy is your fan,” Nino said, leaning closer to his phone camera. “That’s why you want to go. You want to find your number one fan. The whole point of this app was to keep that beautiful distance between us and the diehard fans, you know. You’ve read the contract, right? There’s a reason all the requests come without surnames attached. It’s so we don’t look them up. It’s so all these transactions are just that, one and done little transactions. There’s a reason they’re supposed to screen out all the overzealous requests. It’s exactly so shit like this doesn’t happen.”

“But it’s the guy’s birthday,” Ohno protested. “And Sho-chan will get a free drink out of it. Free!”

“And I can get the friend to pay the train fare. I just have to duck my head in, say hello, meet the birthday boy…hey, even if it’s all a joke, I don’t have to do anything. I can just leave before it gets weird.”

“What happened to the Sakurai Sho I know and love?” Nino sighed, shaking his head. “The Sakurai Sho who didn’t even want to do Ganba! Star Support. The Sakurai Sho who is a proud and competent Senior something-or-other at one of the world’s largest accounting firms, otherwise known as the world’s most safe and boring industry. The Sakurai Sho I know wouldn’t violate the terms of a contract and…”

“He’s my fan!” Sho interrupted. “And if there’s anything this stupid fucking app has taught me the last few months is that that means something. It’s different for you because you have millions of them. But for me, I’ve been able to make a difference in the lives of 11 people. I’ve been able to make 11 people happy that I might never have known existed, okay? So this may just be a way for you to make more cash and there’s nothing wrong with that but maybe it’s different for me, alright? Maybe we all get something different out of this.”

He felt Ohno’s hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. “Nino, I’ll go with him.”

Sho looked aside, saw surprising seriousness in his friend’s face. “Satoshi-kun…”

“I’ll go with him and he won’t get murdered and he won’t get robbed and if they only called him there to make fun of him, then I’ll…I’ll yell at them. Or something.” Ohno’s hand squeezed him tight. “It’ll be fine.”

Nino still looked annoyed, but he let out a breath and leaned back. The last thing he needed to do was get worked up before he had to get back in front of the camera. “Fine. Put yourself in danger. And when you both end up dead in the river, your ghosts will go ‘hmm, we should have listened to Ninomiya.’ Anyhow, I can’t play life coach any longer, my real job is calling. Gotta go.”

“Love you, bye bye,” Sho said, waving before ending the video call.

He turned to look at Ohno beside him.

“Are you really going to come with?”

Ohno shrugged. “I like free drinks, too.”

—

He was rather tired. He’d worked for nearly 12 hours that day, coming out of the office with his briefcase to find Ohno standing near the fountain in front of the building. While Sho was in his usual suit and tie, Ohno was in a t-shirt and jeans.

“I’m going to look like your manager,” Sho said as workers from his building and others in the vicinity headed off for trains or their nightly fun. Nobody seemed to realize or care that two members of a long-disbanded idol group were standing right there chatting.

“It’s just after 9:00 now,” Ohno said, “but if you want to go home and change, I don’t mind.”

“Nah,” Sho said, “too far out of the way.”

It was about a 30 minute walk from Sho’s office in Otemachi to the Papaya Lounge, giving him and Ohno plenty of time to change their minds and run away. They spent most of the long, hot walk in silence. Ohno had never been a big talker, but Sho was comforted enough by his mere presence beside him. 

Since Shun O’s account with Ganba! Star Support had been terminated, Sho was obviously not going to receive the 1,500 yen. But here he was, showing up and bringing a special someone who might also be of interest to this friend of his, Jun. Sakurai Sho’s biggest fan.

Was Sho looking his best after his long workday? Probably not, but he had at least taken a moment to look in the mirror before ducking out, fixing his hair, making sure there was nothing between his teeth. Munching on a breath mint. Ensuring there were no strange odors emanating from him.

Even when he was wrapping things up at the office, Sho had still been enthusiastic about this pretty much frowned upon and forbidden fan encounter. He’d read through the contract he’d signed. It explicitly stated that he wasn’t supposed to connect with any Ganba users in real life. For their privacy and his own. That was the whole point of the thing being video after all. He’d made all those assurances to his employer and to Magnetik Mobile that he wouldn’t do anything to embarrass the company.

So what the hell was he thinking? Each street crossed brought them steps closer to the Papaya Lounge, to Shun O and his friend and the surprise birthday party he was crashing. Shun O probably assumed that Sho had never even received his message, if the blocking of his account had happened so quickly after Sho had gotten the email.

Sometimes Ohno could read him so well.

“If you don’t want to do this, Sho-kun, we could just sit at the bar, grab a drink, and leave. We don’t even have to walk in the door,” his friend said while they waited for a walk signal. “I just…I would at least like to get a drink out of this whether this Shun guy is paying or you are.”

Sho couldn’t help smiling, letting Ohno’s words calm him a little.

“This is stupid, isn’t it? I’m being stupid. Nino was right…”

“Nino has been stalked. He’s had people try and break into his house before,” Ohno reminded him. “I think he’s been given a lot of reasons not to want to meet his fans. I don’t think this has the same amount of pressure. We don’t have the problems he has. This is harmless, I think.”

“So if you had gotten this message, you’d have done the same thing we’re doing right now? Going to a stranger’s surprise party?”

Ohno laughed. “Nah.”

“What?!”

Sho was nudged forward, Ohno pushing him into the crosswalk now that the light was green. “If my biggest fan was a guy, I don’t think I’d want to meet him. No offense.”

Sho rolled his eyes. “None taken.”

Just like the other evening, the Papaya Lounge was open and active on a weeknight. The place had a kind of upscale tropical resort theme, lots of dark wood and lush greenery, vines wrapped around poles. Nobody batted an eye at what either of them was wearing despite the fancy address. The crowd was a good mix of people, drawn together by their appreciation for drinks in large glasses with little umbrellas in them.

Sho clutched his briefcase handle tightly for courage, finding a waitress near the entrance. “Excuse me,” he asked. “We’re here for one of the parties tonight. The host is named Shun.”

“Shun?” she asked, a little confused.

“I’m a friend of a friend,” Sho lied, “I don’t know his surname, sorry. It’s a party he’s hosting for someone named Jun.” He lowered his voice. “It was a surprise party.”

“Oh!” the waitress said, smile returning to her face. “Yes, they’re in the Fiji Room upstairs. You’ll hear them right away…”

“Actually,” Sho continued, “we’re kind of a surprise related to the surprise, my friend and me. Is there any way you could have Shun-san come meet us here first? We don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

The waitress, likely in her early twenties, might have still been in diapers when 3 Wishes debuted. She looked between him and Ohno with measured politeness, not seeing anything all that surprising or noteworthy about them. But she nodded, heading for the staircase in the rear of the bar.

“So that didn’t sound weird at all,” Ohno said, only raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the Hawaiian-style music piping through the speakers.

“Think I’m gonna be sick,” he replied, faux-cheeriness in his voice. It was easier to get scolded by a client than it was to wait for the infamous Shun O to arrive and meet them.

“There’s the door,” Ohno reminded him. “All we have to do is open it and go out, although I really want one of the little umbrellas.”

He kept his eye on the staircase, and maybe two minutes later, they saw a man following the waitress down to the ground floor, moving in their direction. He was very tall, attractive, his hair slicked back with a bit of scruff to him. In his leather jacket, he was cooler than Sho and Ohno combined, not a difficult achievement by any means.

But as soon as he was within a few feet of them, the cool guy act fell away and he put a hand to his mouth. 

“Holy fucking shit!” the guy exclaimed in a rather deep voice, thankfully not loud enough to draw much attention. He came up closer, getting a better look at them in the not too well-lit bar. “No way. No fucking way.”

The waitress, job done, headed off and left them alone.

Sho inclined his head. “Forgive me for being impolite, but are you Shun?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Oguri Shun. Call me…call me whatever you want, I mean. Wow. Wow, thank you.” He came close, smelling of liquor. The party might have started long before the official surprise at 9:00, Sho imagined. “Holy shit, you brought another one.”

“Sakurai Sho, as requested. This is Ohno Satoshi. Both from 3 Wishes.”

Ohno offered a friendly little wave. “Hi.”

“Fuck,” Shun said, resting his hands on top of his head in disbelief. His smile changed his entire face. “Fuck, I’m sorry for the language I just…fuck!”

“So um, this is still the surprise party, right?”

Shun blinked, trying to focus. “Sorry, sorry. Right. Yes. Okay, so I got this cease and desist letter from that Magnetik whatever…so I figured you never got my message. How did you know about this?”

“I got your message first and shortly after, I got an email from Magnetik that it had been sent to me by mistake. That I was to completely ignore it.” Sho did his best to smile. “So don’t rat me out, okay? You said your friend is a fan, and I figure it couldn’t hurt if he got to meet two of us, not just one. Sorry, we didn’t bring Ninomiya. He’s a bit busy.”

“No, no. Man, this is so great. He’s gonna shit himself. This is awesome, thanks so much for coming. Let me get you guys something from the bar first, and then I’ll bring you up. Honestly. Honestly, the fact you even came…I can’t believe it. This is so amazing. Thank you. You don’t have to stay long, you look like you just came from work so…”

“I want one with an umbrella in it,” Ohno interrupted, leading the way over to the bar.

Shun told the bartender that anything he and Ohno wanted would go on his tab, no questions asked. Ohno ended up with a drink that required him to use two hands to hold it; Sho settled instead for some Indonesian beer he’d never heard of.

Before they headed upstairs, Sho stopped Shun with a hand to his arm. “Hey, just um…is there anything you want me to say? To your friend?”

Shun leaned against the railing, looking down at them. He shrugged. “Man, I didn’t expect you to show so I didn’t even think about it. That was stupid, huh?”

“Well, this is my first in-person fan meet in almost 20 years, so I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks, man. Thanks to both of you.”

They followed Shun upstairs, Sho taking a long sip of his beer for courage. The waitress had been right. You could definitely hear them. There was a lot of chatter and obnoxious music coming from the Fiji Room at the end of the hall.

Shun put his hand on the doorknob, turning back. “Is it okay to record you guys? Probably not, right?”

“I could pose for a picture or two with your friend but I’d rather not be recorded or photographed otherwise.”

“Totally fine,” Shun said. “How about you, Ohno-san?”

Sho couldn’t help laughing at the sight of his friend holding the massive glass between his hands. “Satoshi-kun, you look hilarious.”

Ohno had another long sip before answering. “Ah, probably no video of me either. I’m breaking the contract showing up here, too. No offense.”

“Let me go in first, I’ll whisper around, make sure nobody whips out their phone and breaks the rules, tempting as it might be. I’ll be back in a minute, I’ll make sure he’s a little distracted so you really surprise him. He probably figured the party itself was the only shock, so this is really gonna get him.”

Shun disappeared into the noisy Fiji Room. Sho smiled, watching Ohno manipulate the large glass. Nothing about this entire situation seemed to worry him. Sho had always envied him for that ability.

“Sounds like they have an interesting friendship,” Sho remarked.

Ohno just nodded.

Finally Shun returned, opening the door. There had to be at least 40, 50 people inside the Fiji Room. Jun seemed to have a lot of well-wishers for his 35th. The floor was strewn with little streamers, and the room was even darker than the bar downstairs had been. A jukebox was sending out a ukulele cover of a Beatles song Sho couldn’t quite place as he followed Shun through the mass of bodies to a series of plush couches in the rear of the room.

Sho spotted the birthday boy immediately, if only because someone had put a plastic crown on his head and a beauty contestant sash around him. He was sitting on one of the couches, a highball glass in hand as he carried on a lively, laughing conversation with the woman beside him.

Like Sho, this Jun had clearly arrived at the party from work since he was in a dark suit, white dress shirt, and dark shoes. But his tie was gone, and he’d opened a few buttons. He had a rather striking face, large features, a big gorgeous smile as the woman beside him poked at the silly crown on his head. He crossed one long leg over another, resting a hand on his knee, gesturing to his friend with his glass.

Fuck, Sho thought. Did his number one fan have to be this hot?

Shun was beside him then, a hand on his shoulder. “Just sit down on the couch next to him and wait until he notices you. Is that okay?”

It had been so much easier when the fan requests were just an email. “Yeah,” Sho muttered. “Sure.”

Unsure what to do with his briefcase, he kept it with him, approaching the couch and having a seat. He set it down at his feet, resting his beer glass on his thigh, waiting for Jun to turn around.

A chorus of curses echoed in his head as he took in the way Jun’s suit jacket fit him, across a broad back and shoulders. He was still turned away, focused on chatting with the woman beside him. Jun wasn’t drunk yet, not that Sho could tell. He had a rather playful tone to his voice though, a little nasally, but animated and friendly. Sho entered official panic. Fuck shit fuck shit what am I doing, fuck shit fuck shit fuck fuck what am I doing, the chorus went on.

He looked over, hoping to gain courage from Ohno, to at least be distracted by the obnoxiously large glass of alcohol he was toting around. But his friend was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he’d already been recognized, had found a lady in the crowd who’d been a fan. Sho turned back to the matter at hand. The chorus of curses slowly became a chorus of Ninomiya-voice, telling him ‘I told you so,’ that meeting your fans was a bad decision. But it was too late now.

Raising his beer glass to his lips seemed to draw attention at last, and Jun swiveled a little in his seat. The ukulele twanged, the conversations elsewhere became nothing but noise. There was a set of track lights a few feet away on the ceiling, casting a shadow across half of Jun’s face when he turned with a smile, probably expecting a friend. As he turned, the ice cubes in his highball glass clinked.

“Hey, how are…” 

The smile vanished in an instant. The man was speechless.

“Hi,” Sho said, wondering if this stranger could notice that his knees were shaking a little. “Hi there, I’m Sakurai Sho.”

Sho had walked all the way here from his office in Otemachi after a long workday. He hadn’t given too much thought to how all of this would go down, this meeting with a purported fan. He had no point of reference for an encounter like this. Most people who recognized him approached him of their own volition. He had figured that Jun’s reaction would be somewhat close to Shun’s. Disbelief, a few unsavory words in shock. Maybe a selfie and a few minutes of small talk.

What Sho hadn’t expected at all was for Jun, the man receiving the surprise party, to stare at him for several awkward seconds, mouth hanging open. There was no happiness in his expression. If Sho had to put a word to the look in Jun’s face, it might have been…horror?

The woman on his other side poked her head around. “Ah!” she said. “Ah, from 3 Wishes! Sakurai-kun! What’s going on?” She tugged on Jun’s sleeve. “Eh? Wasn’t he your favorite, Jun-kun? What’s going on? How did you…”

And then there was movement, a flash of plastic crown and white sash and the stomping of shoes across the streamer-covered floor, ukulele Beatles carrying on obliviously while the guest chatter abruptly stopped. Jun’s friends parted quickly, allowing him to make a swift exit, the door of the Fiji Room opening and closing. 

And then the whispers started.

Sho sat there, a few dozen pairs of eyes now exclusively focused on him, the stranger, the outsider, and the fact that his presence had presumably just sent their friend fleeing from the room during his own birthday party.

The woman scooted over, brushing a long strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Is this for a TV show or something?”

Sho looked up, embarrassment coursing through him as he tried to find Shun. The door to the Fiji Room opening and closing again seemed to answer that.

He set his beer glass down on a small table behind the couch, hurriedly getting to his feet and picking up his briefcase. “Sorry. I’m very sorry. It’s not for TV. Very sorry.”

The only people not deeply invested in the drama that had just happened were the four or five people gathered around Ohno, faces filled with excitement. He thought he heard Nino’s name come from one of them as he approached.

“I’m gonna go,” Sho said, voice quivering.

Ohno, for once, seemed to be enjoying the attention. Likely because all of the people surrounding him were women. “I’ll text you tomorrow, don’t worry about me.”

Sho nodded politely as the other guests let him move through them to the door. He opened and closed the Fiji Room door quietly behind him, finding himself back in the hallway. This could not have gone worse for him. And he supposed he ought to have been a little more forceful, telling Ohno that they should both leave together. _Now Oh-chan’s gonna be the one robbed and murdered and found in the river_ , Nino would be screeching, _all because you left him behind!_

But Ohno was a grown man, and Sho was currently a horribly embarrassed man and he made his way back to the staircase, finding his way to the closest exit, a side door that led to the alleyway beside the bar. 

“…just a stupid app! It’s the one where the celebrities make videos for you.”

Shun and Jun were having an argument just around the corner, and Sho knew he should go back inside, hurry out the front door. Get on the train, get the hell out of here. Prostrate himself before Nino, tell him he’d been right. This had been a mistake.

“Then why didn’t you just have him make a video, if you were so intent on embarrassing me in front of everyone we know tonight?” came the voice Sho now recognized as Jun’s. And he was really pissed off. “Why would you do this?”

“I…I thought you’d like it,” Shun said, clearly sober now as the oppressive August heat, even this late at night, wrapped around them all. Sho could feel a bead of sweat trickling down his back.

Go back inside. Go back inside. Go out the front door.

“I thought you’d like it,” Shun repeated. “I thought it would be fun. I don’t know, man, why are you acting like this? What’s wrong? Come on, let’s go back inside. He didn’t have to come here…”

“You didn’t have to fucking invite him!”

“Why are you so worked up over this? You hired drag queens to serenade me at my fucking office for my 35th, and I didn’t murder you like I should have. In comparison to you always doing whatever you think is funny, I tried to do something you’d enjoy. I did this to make you happy, man, it’s your birthday!”

“You invited _Sakurai Sho_ to my party.”

Go back inside. Go back inside, Sho. Go out the front door.

“You didn’t even get to see the other one,” Shun said. “The other one’s here, too. Ohno.”

Jun’s voice was teetering on the edge of something, and Sho felt awful for him. “What?”

“Sakurai brought him. Sakurai brought him so you could meet the both of them, you ungrateful piece of…they’re ordinary, normal guys. Nice guys. Stop crying and get back inside and at least thank them for coming so I can send them home and apologize for wasting their time. The fuck is wrong with you? You’re 35 and you’re acting 5. My kid has better manners than you do.”

“I wasn’t ready. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like being ambushed. You’ve always known this! And then you throw me a surprise party. And you pull this shit.”

“Ambushed?” Shun laughed. “Ambushed?! Jun…it’s not that serious.”

“Well, it’s serious to me!”

Sho couldn’t listen any longer, opening the door and letting it slam behind him. He moved through the bar, narrowly dodging a waitress with a tray full of drinks before scrambling out the front entrance.

On the train home he texted Ohno, told him to not get killed. He didn’t receive a response, not even by the time he got to his apartment.

He set down his briefcase, walking to his bedroom and flopping down ungracefully on the mattress. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it, seeing as how all he’d said to this Jun was his name. But he’d clearly ruined the man’s birthday entirely.

Way to go, he thought. There goes your five-star rating, he thought.

He eventually coaxed himself out of his clothes, falling into a poor and restless sleep.

—

He was a zombie at the office the next day, the amount of coffee he drank to keep himself awake and alert sending him to the bathroom every hour. But the dark circles under his eyes were always proof to his employer that he was putting in long hours and who cares about work/life balance anyway. So nobody could possibly guess at what was really wrong.

He supposed it was best to just move on. Let this embarrassing event be a lesson. Ganba! Star Support was the only contact he ever needed to make with fans. Or well-meaning friends of fans.

He’d texted Nino that he wasn’t dead in the river, but beyond that, he wasn’t in the mood for another scolding so he didn’t say anything else. He received a text from Ohno while he was on the train heading home that night.

_Come by tomorrow after we close, I’ve got something for you._

Seeing Ohno Satoshi three times in one week was a rare opportunity. He had never been the most sociable guy. So Sho found his way to the bakery the following evening, ducking in the door just as a pair of Ohno’s part-timers were heading home for the night. He exchanged greetings and headed around the counter to the back.

Like always, the place smelled amazing as he passed through on the way to the stairs that led up to Ohno’s apartment. “Happy to see you’re not dead,” he remarked, taking his shoes off and heading into Ohno’s space.

His friend was already in relax mode, sprawled across his sofa with the TV on. Something with sharks. Sho settled in the chair nearby.

“Definitely not dead. Very much alive, Sho-chan, thanks,” Ohno said with a rather peculiar smile.

“You slept with someone from the party,” Sho realized immediately.

“You should have stayed, they were cool people. I’m not used to being around cool people.”

Sho pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to take his friend’s words as an insult. “Satoshi-kun…”

“Relax, I didn’t stay overnight. She didn’t get any pictures of me. Now she just has a wonderful story to tell all her girlfriends.”

“I don’t need or want this information from you.”

“Matsujun is a really nice guy.”

“Matsu who?”

“Matsumoto Jun,” Ohno said, moving to sit back up. The sharks kept swimming by. “That’s his real name, the guy. Your ultimate fan. Some of his friends call him Matsujun, I think it’s cute.”

Sho wanted to puke. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you want to know. Sho-kun, I know you. I saw your face, I saw how hurt you were. I’m telling you this so you stop beating yourself up. He was just surprised, that’s all. He feels really bad that you came there and left right away. He wants to apologize.”

Sho shook his head. “That wouldn’t be appropriate. Or necessary. He has nothing to apologize for. I don’t want to…”

“I got his business card. It’s in my wallet.”

“No.”

“He and I took a picture together, it turned out really good. He’s a good-looking guy. I don’t know what I expected,” Ohno rambled on, getting to his feet and walking over to his counter, looking for his wallet. “Maybe I thought he’d be a sad nerd or one of those scary obsessive fans who gets plastic surgery to look like you and it backfires and he ends up looking like a melted doll or something…”

Sho had replayed the moments from the Papaya Lounge over and over. The hurt tone in Jun…in Matsumoto Jun’s voice. The shock in his face. The last thing Sho wanted was to see that look or hear that kind of distress ever again. He never wanted to have that sort of effect on another person for the rest of his life.

But then Ohno was holding out a card.

“I told him you’re still on the app so if he wanted, he could buy a video from you. But he said he’d rather do things properly.” Ohno pushed his hand in Sho’s face. “Come on, take it. He wrote his mobile number on the back.”

He blinked, taking in the details in front of his eyes. Matsumoto Jun, Nakamura Furniture Ginza. Business address, phone number. He leaned back, snatching the card away with a huff. He turned it over. Thankfully there was no apology. Just a scribbled phone number and beside it, the letters “MJ.”

“He just did this to be polite,” Sho decided. “He doesn’t actually want me to call him. Like me, he wants to move on and forget this ever happened.”

“Oh, you’re so sure of that? Because of the two of us, I’m the one who actually talked with him.”

Sho shoved the business card in his own wallet. “You shouldn’t have given this to me.”

Ohno flopped back down on the sofa, looking pleased with himself. “You were eventually going to ask me about him. You were going to be sneaky about it, thinking you were being smart, but I know you too well. Now you’re stuck, Sho-kun.”

He scowled at his friend. Who was, of course, one hundred percent correct. Though the logical part of Sho knew it was best to move on from the horrors of the Papaya Lounge, the emotional part of Sho and the dumbass part of Sho wanted a do-over. Emotional Sho wanted to see Matsumoto Jun again so he could apologize. And Dumbass Sho wanted to see Matsumoto Jun again because he was attractive.

It was selfish, he knew that. It was probably creepy, he knew that. 

And yet…

“So…” Sho couldn’t help asking a few moments later, “did you…you know, talk with him about me?”

Ohno only laughed in response.

“Satoshi-kun.”

“Is this a gay thing?” Ohno asked. 

“A _gay thing_?” Sho repeated.

“Like…are you trying to find out if Matsujun was your fan back then because he liked your rap lyrics or if he was your fan because he wanted to fuck you?”

“Oi!”

Sho was rewarded with another Ohno laugh. “Don’t get so huffy. I only had a few minutes with the guy, and I don’t normally notice these things the way you might.”

“I’m going to go home…”

Before he could get up, Ohno flung a pillow at him, hitting him in the stomach with it. “I don’t normally notice these things, but I’m not completely ignorant. One of the other women at the party was also sad that you’d left, and she’d asked me if you’d gotten married or had a girlfriend, something like that. She asked about me and Nino too, I wasn’t purposely talking about that stuff out of nowhere. But anyway when I told her you were single, he was still standing nearby.”

Sho couldn’t believe he was loitering around here relying on Ohno Satoshi’s insights into a stranger’s sexual preferences. It was none of their business, and even if Matsumoto Jun was gay, it didn’t mean his youthful admiration for Sho meant anything today. Just how desperate was Sho for a date? Everything about this was pathetic, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t Sakurai Sho with the earring and the idol magazine poses now. He was just a lonely workaholic uncle who could never get anyone to stay. And with that attitude, he thought to himself, what would a cool-looking person like Matsumoto Jun want with him anyway?

But Sho was Sho and impulses were impulses.

“He was still standing nearby and…?” Sho asked quietly.

Ohno smiled. “Well, the woman, Matsujun’s friend…she looked at him and she said something like ‘isn’t that perfect for you then, Jun-kun’?”

Sho gaped at him.

“I didn’t say you were gay or anything,” Ohno said, waving his hand emphatically. “I swear, I swear. I just said single. Or unmarried. I don’t know, I was on my second drink then, and they were huge, you know. But yeah, his friend said all that and he looked a bit…I don’t know, pleased or embarrassed, he didn’t actually say anything. But that means gay, right? The friend saying that and him being happy about it. Sounds pretty gay?”

Sho bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He knew Ohno meant well. 

Having no further juicy information to relate regarding Matsumoto Jun, Sho’s biggest fan, Ohno talked Sho into dinner at the soba shop down the street. The good food was a nice distraction from the business card burning a hole in Sho’s wallet.

But it wouldn’t distract for very long.

—

A few days later, he’d once again run out of things to clean in his apartment. He’d run out of work emails to respond to after hours. So that just left him with Matsumoto Jun’s business card and a terrifying feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he considered sending a text message to the guy. After careful consideration, he knew a phone call would be a horrible idea. Texting was safer.

Sho had also behaved himself. Even though he had a full name and job details, he had refrained from looking up his biggest fan online. He had respected Matsumoto’s privacy, even though Ohno had said he wanted to meet Sho again. But of course he wanted to meet Sho again to apologize for something he didn’t actually have to apologize for. Sho was the one who wanted to meet again for inappropriate reasons.

But they were never going to meet again if Sho didn’t do something about it.

Once out of the bath, he sat cross-legged on his sofa staring at his phone. Dating apps were easy and mostly anonymous, lacking in commitment - a simple yes or no. This was way different from that. Finding the words to initiate contact seemed almost impossible.

He’d been brave enough to show his face at the Papaya Lounge, and deep down, it was because he’d been curious about just who his biggest fan could be. He had to find that bravery (or stupidity) again. After another agonizing twenty minutes, he gave in. Took a leap. Entered Jun’s number in his phone and sent him a message.

_Hello, this is Sakurai Sho. Ohno-san gave me your business card, so I hope I’m not being rude in contacting you. I wanted to apologize for not greeting you properly during your party. Please feel free to contact me at this number any time. Take care and thank you for supporting me._

He set his phone aside, running on the treadmill in his building’s fitness center for nearly an hour to cope with what he’d just done. By the time he was finished, drowning in sweat when he returned upstairs, he realized he’d already received an answer. It had only taken Matsumoto Jun 20 minutes to reply.

_Sho-san, I’m the one who should apologize for behaving as I did. I know you’re no longer in the entertainment business, so it was rude of my friend to bother you in that way. I am truly sorry for not respecting your time and efforts that evening. This may be presumptuous, but I would love to buy you a coffee sometime to thank you for what you did. It really meant a lot to me that you came, even if I was too shocked at the time to show it._

Buy you a coffee sometime, Sho read again and again. When was sometime? What was an appropriate sometime? This week? This month? This year?

Before Sho could obsess over that any further, he decided to take yet another frightening leap. _Are you available this Sunday?_

“Ahhhhh you shouldn’t have done that,” he chided himself. 

But he’d done a lot of things he shouldn’t have the last few months. It wasn’t like him to be so impulsive. But as it turned out, Matsumoto Jun seemed to be equally impulsive despite the terrible way they’d met. 

Because this time his text arrived only 2 minutes after Sho’s.

_There’s a cafe I like a few minutes from Sugamo Station. Is that at all convenient for you? Sometime after noon?_

Their texting grew faster, Sho standing in his living room still in need of a post-run shower, as he and Jun agreed to meet at Sugamo Station at 1:00 PM that Sunday.

The good thing, Sho decided once he’d set down his phone with shaking hands, was that at least this time Jun knew he was coming.

—

Though Sho was the one who’d been a celebrity in what seemed like another life, it was Matsumoto Jun who looked like a real star when they met up that Sunday. Sho had played it safe with a t-shirt and jeans and a favorite pair of sneakers, but his companion had arrived in designer clothes, a light scarf wrapped around his neck despite the early September heat. He also had on a fancy pair of sunglasses and a wide-brimmed black hat.

“Hello again,” Sho said, inclining his head.

Jun kept the sunglasses on, scratching a bit at the back of his neck. An itch? Nervousness? Sho couldn’t tell. “Hello.”

“Sorry for scaring you. There was a lot about that night that I feel terrible about. And by the way, since i didn’t get to tell you earlier: happy birthday.”

At that, Sho became the recipient of a sweet, embarrassed smile that warmed him from head to toe. Smiling made Jun look years younger. Perhaps this was what he’d looked like when 3 Wishes had still been together. 

“I wanted to kill him, you know. Shun. My friend,” Jun explained. “I don’t like surprises. I mean…not that you were a bad surprise or anything, it’s just…surprises as a concept…”

Sho waved his hand. “I understand. I’m really sorry.”

“I can’t believe you’re standing here apologizing to me,” Jun said, voice almost too soft in the bustling train station. “Sakurai Sho is apologizing to me.”

Sho knew he was turning red. He wasn’t used to his name being said with such…reverence. At least not anymore. Matsumoto Jun said “Sakurai Sho” as though it truly meant something.

“But thank you,” Jun continued. “For coming then. And for coming now. Shall we?”

They walked for a few minutes, making their way through the weekend crowd. It eventually thinned out as they arrived at a quieter street. Jun led him into the cafe he’d mentioned. It was a fairly relaxed establishment but gave off the same sophisticated air that seemed to envelop Jun himself. Clean white tile, dark wood counters and tables. The fresh smell of coffee and the light chatter of other customers on a calm Sunday afternoon.

Sho didn’t make a fuss when Jun paid for their two drinks, and he let his companion take the lead, finding them a table in the rear of the cafe. It was exactly the table Sho would have chosen. Finally the sunglasses and the hat came off, Jun running a hand through his thick black hair to revive it a little.

“Thank you for taking care of Ohno-san at the party,” Sho mumbled. “I kind of abandoned him there.”

Jun laughed quietly. “It was not the proudest moment of my life, running out of that room. Shun managed to talk me into coming back in. But then you were already gone.”

“Sorry.”

Jun leaned forward just the slightest bit. “Just between you and me, the only one who ought to be apologizing here is Shun.”

“Then let’s agree to that and no more apologies today.”

“Agreed,” Jun said. “Now…Shun explained that he reached out to you on that video app. But, um, if you don’t mind me asking…why did you come?”

Straight to the point. Normally a trait he liked in people, and yet Sho had been hoping to be on the other side of the interrogation. ‘Why were you my fan’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he’d already lost.

“I suppose there’s a long version and a short version. The short version is that I’d made some videos for Ganba! Star Support, and I guess it made me happy. Happy to know that people still remembered me. And then being able to make them happy in return.”

“But Shun didn’t ask you to make a video.”

“No,” Sho admitted. “He didn’t.”

“He invited you to the party and you just decided to show up?”

Sho chose to take advantage of the opening Jun had just left him. “Well, what he actually said was…um, that you were my fan. My biggest fan, and I guess…I don’t know, because of that I guess maybe I wanted to say thanks in person.”

Jun’s face reddened, and he leaned back to have a long sip of his drink. Sho couldn’t help focusing on the straw between Jun’s lips, noticing little moles just above and below them. He still didn’t know much about this man, acting entirely on selfish instinct. On mere physical attraction. Liking the way he could make Jun blush. Foolishly envying the stupid straw. 

“Do you…normally meet with your fans? Now that you’re retired? I mean, that you’re living a normal life?”

“No. Well, people approach me from time to time for a picture if they recognize me, but otherwise…not really. Ganba’s changing that a little, I put a lot of time into those videos but I guess that’s because people are paying me. I don’t know. I feel like if there’s money involved, the fan service effort should reflect that.”

“Shun didn’t pay you to come to my party.”

“Well, I’m sure he tried. Before they blocked him from the service, I mean.”

“So you’ll make fancy videos for the people who pay,” Jun said. “But you came in person for me because of what Shun said about me?”

“I guess so. I was curious. It was a request I didn’t expect, it got sent to me by mistake. The company, the app producer, they told me to ignore it. But it sounded like it might be fun. I know that sounds weird, but let me be honest. I always knew that I was the least popular one in 3 Wishes. I knew that. And the app is proving that all over again.” Sho didn’t know why he was blabbing all of this to Jun. “I work hard for the people who still remember me. It means a lot, knowing people still care after all these years. It strokes the ego, I guess, even if there’s not many of them asking for me. And then when your friend wrote to me, declaring you my biggest fan I didn’t know if he was exaggerating or…”

“He wasn’t,” Jun cut in then, “I really was your number one fan. More than anyone else.”

“You’re sure of that?” Sho managed to squeak out.

Jun nodded. “Yeah. Definitely. I knew everything about you back then. Read all the magazines, bought all the music. Had your poster on my wall. I went to your concert, the one you guys did at Yoyogi National Gymnasium.”

Sho’s eyes widened. “Our one and only big venue event. You were there?”

Jun grinned, stirring the ice around in his cup, face still a little flushed. “I mean, I talked my older sister into going with me so I could pretend she had dragged me there by force so…”

The staff had closed off the entire upper deck of the venue because they couldn’t sell enough tickets. They’d never performed anywhere that size again. It had all been downhill from there. And yet Matsumoto Jun had attended. Matsumoto Jun had been in that crowd, cheering for him.

“That’s cute.”

“It was creepy,” Jun admitted. “I memorized your lyrics, I wrote them in notebooks. I insisted on playing 3 Wishes songs at karaoke when my friends wanted to do stuff like B’z and X Japan. To further prove my point, they had us wear photo badges at my 10-year high school reunion. And everyone’s badge had their photo from back then. But they put your face on my badge. That was how much everyone knew I was the fan of the 3 Wishes guy. When you initially disbanded and then you just disappeared, people called me to make sure I was okay.”

Sho didn’t know what to say to that.

Jun shut his eyes. “Why the hell did I tell you any of that?”

“It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “This is why you’re not actually supposed to meet your idols.”

“Really, Matsumoto-san. It’s okay.” 

Jun looked at him again, and now that they were in a place with decent lighting, Sho had a hard time looking away from his big brown eyes. They were soft, vulnerable. Shit, Sho thought. How many times in the last few weeks had the words ‘this was a mistake’ crossed his mind? But was it? Was it a mistake?

If Jun had been honest, Sho felt he had to be too. 

“It was hard, all of that. Disbanding and having to just…move on with my life. I was in front of screaming fans one day, a few weeks later I was sitting down and taking university entrance exams. I’ve been a normal person for much longer than I was ever a celebrity, but it’s hard to forget. People, random people, I mean. They can be so…terrible when they recognize you. So many of them look at me like a joke. And I guess maybe that’s why I’ve been using the Star Support app. Because those people aren’t accosting you on the subway. They’re better behaved. And it’s all ego. It’s a self-esteem boost, finding out people gave a shit about the stupid lyrics you wrote when you were 18 and thought you were much cooler than you actually were. Finding out people still give a shit now. You can’t know what that feels like. You can’t know what _this_ feels like, sitting here, listening to you be so honest about all this. Even if I’m violating my contract being here.”

Jun offered him a weak smile before having another sip of his drink. “Then I guess maybe I’m glad we got this second chance. Even if you probably think I’m creepy. For the record, I don’t have your face plastered all over my walls anymore. No offense.”

“None taken.” He chuckled. “You’re not creepy. And I swear there’s more to me than all my neuroses or complexes or whatever I’ve got on display here today. Going to your party and then running away from your party was probably not my finest hour. So I’m also glad we got to meet again. Our third time.”

“Third time?” Jun asked, eyes wide.

Sho waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, today. Then your party. And then Yoyogi National Gymnasium.”

Jun let out an awkward laugh. “Oh. Right.”

“Right.”

They were quiet for a few moments, letting the soft jazz music piping through the cafe speakers fill the silence as they finished their drinks. 

“Well,” Jun finally said. “Now that we’ve got all the awkward confessions out of the way, I hope it’s not too intrusive to ask what you’ve been up to all these years?”

Sho was relieved, finding it much easier to tell Jun the more boring, day-to-day aspects of his life as it was. He talked about school, about his job. That he was still friends with Nino and Ohno and that yes, they still did their old songs at karaoke sometimes.

Jun had gotten a degree in business, had a job waiting for him after university at the furniture company owned by the father of one of his closest friends from high school. “Probably wasn’t fair, but I’m good at my job.” The father had passed away a few years ago, so now the friend and his older brother ran the business. It was a fairly specialized company, focusing on rare or unique pieces. Jun got to travel a lot, going overseas to pick out items to sell or to obtain pieces specifically requested by their wealthy clientele.

“I went to Spain to an auction just to buy a sofa for Kaga Mariko-san once,” Jun bragged. “And Tom Cruise bought a chair from me. Well, to be fair, he let the interpreter do all the work, but he was a really nice guy.”

No wonder he dressed the way he did. He was a jet-setter, making purchases for the stars. 

“Of course, that’s not as cool as 3 Wishes getting together for karaoke,” Jun said, grinning.

It was clear that of the two lives presented in the cafe that day, Matsumoto Jun’s was much more interesting. Sho’s life was stable, if a little boring. Jun’s life was fun, dynamic. 

“Are you in the market for any furniture, Sho-san? I’m just asking, I didn’t actually drag you all the way here just to push my business on you. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t think I could afford to shop where Tom Cruise shops,” Sho confessed. “I get a few royalty checks to this day though. Like if they make a weird Muzak version of our song for a convenience store. If I wrote a rap for the song, I was credited as a songwriter so I get my cut for that and my cut as one of the performing artists.”

“I still listen to your stuff on Spotify all the time, do you get anything from that?”

“Technically, yes,” Sho said, chuckling. “If you’re streaming 3 Wishes, say, tens of thousands of times, I might eventually get a few yen out of it. Thank you for your patronage.”

Jun looked embarrassed. “I didn’t realize it was that little.”

“Matsumoto-kun, I was in an idol group 20 years ago. It’s not like I’m sitting at home with bated breath waiting for the money to roll in.”

“Well. If you ever need a sofa, a chair, a table, I’d love to help you out. Sales pitch has now concluded.”

Sho smiled. “In exchange, if your company is in need of audit or tax consulting…”

“You’re the first person I’ll call.”

“Sounds good,” he replied, chuckling.

Their eyes met again, holding for a few heart-stopping seconds. He liked Matsumoto Jun, at least more than just for physical reasons now that they’d chatted for over an hour, knew the basics of one another. Their lives were quite different, and the only thing they seemed to have in common was 3 Wishes. Sho as a member, Jun as a fan. 

Their drinks were long gone. Most of the customers in the cafe were different from those who’d been seated when they’d arrived. He imagined being a bolder person, asking to take their conversation somewhere else. Somewhere more private. He imagined being the type of guy who could pull off something like that. Jun gave off the vibe that he could. He seemed like he’d know all the right things to say to pick someone up. 

But as of that moment, they’d really fulfilled the purpose of this coffee meeting. Jun had made his apologies for the party. Sho had made his. Now was the time to decide if this was the end or the beginning. 

Sho didn’t think it was fair or kind to leverage the nostalgic power he’d had over Jun just so he could sleep with him. He was lonely, but he certainly wasn’t _that_ lonely. Even if Jun would be into it, what if it went poorly? What if it tainted the good memories he had of 3 Wishes, of Sho? He’d already messed up the guy’s birthday. 

But he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t considering it. The possibility of more. Not just casual sex but something more.

“What are you thinking about?” Jun asked him suddenly. “You’re making such a serious face.”

Sho blinked, looking away. “I was…um…”

Picturing you whispering nonsense in my ear. Picturing you naked. Picturing you in my bed. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable? Talking about money?”

“No. No, of course not…”

“Is it because we’re not supposed to actually be here doing this? Are you worried about whatever that app contract says?” Jun leaned forward, those big eyes so sincere. “I swear, I’m not going to tell anyone. I wouldn’t do anything to get you in trouble.”

“Because you’re my biggest fan,” Sho blurted out.

“No,” Jun insisted. “Because I’m not an asshole.”

He nearly knocked his cup over leaning back, pressing himself against the back of the cafe chair. “Can I see you again?” he asked, eyes focused entirely on the tabletop. “I know you’re busy, I’m busy with work too. But can I see you again? Forgive me if I’m making untrue assumptions here, I’m really sorry, but I’d like to see you. Not like this, not idol and fan or whatever, but you know…”

Jun’s soft laughter made him finally glance up. It was a little mean-spirited in tone, but that red flush was back in Jun’s cheeks at the same time. “I thought we said…um, that we weren’t going to make any more apologies today. We said that at the start, right?”

He looked around, paranoid that they were speaking too loudly. Of course nobody was paying them any attention. “Yeah…”

“Then don’t say things like ‘Forgive me’ or ‘I’m really sorry.’ Because you just asked me something that I’ve been wanting you to ask me since I was 16 years old and realizing I preferred guys to girls. Not that I ever expected to hear it because that was a daydream, that was, you know, completely and utterly unrealistic but…here you are. Sakurai Sho wants to see me. My wish is finally coming true.”

“It’s not…appropriate. If you’re my fan,” Sho pointed out.

“You’re the one who asked.”

“I know.” He could feel his own face growing hot, unable to handle the full force of Matsumoto Jun’s eyes. “I know that, I know that. I’m…”

“Ah!” Jun said, lifting a finger. “Don’t you dare say ‘sorry.’”

He laughed, embarrassed at being caught again.

“Sho-san,” Jun continued. “Why don’t you let me decide what is and isn’t appropriate?”

“You’re a bit biased,” Sho reminded him. 

Jun smiled. “I liked the Sakurai Sho from 3 Wishes with the earring. That’s the bias. But the guy in front of me now isn’t that Sakurai Sho, and I can accept that distinction. Not a celebrity. No earring. Still cute.”

Sho couldn’t find words.

“Look, I’m going to leave first,” Jun said, grabbing hold of his cup of melting ice. “I know that everything about this entire situation might seem strange. But things happen for a reason, and I’m the type of person to just roll with it. Just from talking with you, I can see that you’re not like that. And that’s fine. It doesn’t make me like you any less.”

“Matsumoto-san…”

Jun took his hat and sunglasses back, putting them on and hiding the truth in his eyes. “I had a bad breakup about two weeks before my birthday. So right now I’m extremely single and in the past I’ve rebounded too quickly. Let’s just say it’s a good thing you didn’t stay at the party, or I’d have probably done something truly embarrassing. So yes. Yes, I want to see you again. But I can wait. I’ve waited this long, haven’t I?”

As he passed by, he rested a firm hand on Sho’s shoulder.

“I’ll be in touch.”

—

“What a cool guy!” Nino declared. “‘I’ll be in touch,’ huh?”

“I still shouldn’t do anything about it, right?” He knew his protests sounded unconvincing, but he felt as though he needed to at least voice them.

“Sho-chan, you’re both consenting adults, and from the things you’ve told me, it sounds like this guy isn’t going to sell you out to the paparazzi. And to be honest, I can’t see the paparazzi even caring about the rapper guy from 3 Wishes going on a date with another man. If it was me, sure, I’d be a little worried. But you need to go for it. You’re making me want to barf with how you’re talking about this guy.”

“And what about the contract I signed?”

“What, you think I’m gonna tell Aiba-chan and Kazama-san you’re abusing their app to get laid? I’ve got a lot of other stuff to occupy my time,” Nino teased him. “I’m a world-famous actor!”

But not so famous that he couldn’t meet for ramen from time to time, even if they had to shut the place down for an hour so fans wouldn’t swarm the place. Next week Nino was off for filming in Taiwan, would be gone for a month. This had been Sho’s only chance to get an opinion in person.

Nino certainly had changed his mind since the night before the Papaya Lounge. Or maybe Nino, like Ohno, was sick of Sho’s whining and worrying. If Sho was in the throes of new relationship madness, he’d bother Nino a lot less.

“Sho-chan, just accept that you met this person under questionable circumstances and get over it. Think about it. Think about what you talked about together that had nothing to do with him masturbating to pictures of you in Myojo when he was in high school. You told him about your job, and he didn’t fall asleep thirty seconds in. That means he’s either really patient or really likes the person you are now. Both of those things bode well if you want to get in the guy’s pants.”

Sho slurped some broth before elbowing Nino in the side.

“Ow!” 

Sho was just getting into bed later that night when his phone pinged with an email. He was surprised by the subject line. It had been weeks now since he’d gotten one. _You have a request from a Ganba! Star Support user! Click and earn today!_

He opened it.

 

_Hey there, Sakurai Sho (Talent ID: 3wishes_sho),_

_A Ganba! Star Support user would like a video from you: Jun M_

_Here are the instructions the user provided:  
Sho-san, thank you for the autograph you gave me in Sugamo the other day. Can you make a video and tell me your favorite food?_

 

Sho stared at the short message. What autograph? But then he realized what was going on. It was really Jun, mentioning Sugamo as a way of confirming that he was really the one sending the message. That it wasn’t any other Jun M in the world but him. He’d found a way to use Ganba! Star Support without getting flagged as a suspicious request. 

It made Sho smile, although it was kind of embarrassing that Jun had paid 2,000 yen to get an answer to a question he could have just asked by text message. But that just meant Sho had to give a good answer.

After work the following night, he headed to the basement of a department store nearby, wandering through the slow-moving crowd in the food hall and filming short little clips. He stayed up until 2:00 editing together the best ones and adding his voiceover.

“This video is for my fan Jun M, thank you for supporting me. And here’s a few of the things I really love to eat.”

—

He didn’t receive a response for over a week, and in that time, Jun hadn’t left him a rating on the app. No rating was better than a one-star rating, but Sho had spent a little too much time paranoid that he’d read it all wrong. That it really wasn’t his Jun M. (Not that he had any claim on Jun M or anything). Or that maybe there was a problem with Ganba! Star Support and he hadn’t gotten the video in the first place.

But then Jun’s text came in while Sho was sitting in the break room with co-workers, eating some sad leftovers. 

All his message said was _Pick a time_ , followed by 3 choices in the week ahead. A Thursday at 8:00 PM. A Friday at 9:30 PM. Or a Monday at 8:30 PM.

Today was Wednesday, so perhaps the Thursday looked too eager or desperate. And he knew he was going to be working late on Monday. He replied with the Friday date, intrigued by whatever Jun was planning. 

It was several hours before he received _See you Friday, Higashi-ginza Exit 6 9:15 PM_.

Sho wasn’t used to not having all the details, but this was clearly a date. This was more than coffee. The mystery of it was exciting. And terrifying. But mostly exciting.

Work kept him late on Friday, and he barely squeaked out the door at 8:30. He hoped Jun wouldn’t mind him showing up without changing into different clothes, but he’d freshened up as best he could with some mouthwash and dental floss he kept at the office. 

Jun found him right away at the station, smiling at the sight of him and walking over. Unlike their coffee meeting, Jun looked a lot more like he had on that night at the Papaya Lounge. He was in a well-fitted navy suit, but he’d gone without a tie, had undone a few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. 

“Good evening.”

“Did you like my video?” Sho couldn’t help asking.

Jun’s smile grew even bigger. “You sure make a good video, Sho-san. It gave me a lot of options, but I think you’re going to like what I picked.” Jun gave him a playful little shove. “Come on, follow me.”

They ended up entering a rather non-descript building a few blocks from the Kabuki-za Theater, climbing two flights of stairs before Jun knocked on a door at the next landing. “Usually takes 2 months to get in here,” Jun said, “but the owner owes me a favor.”

“Here” turned out to be a small, exclusive restaurant owned by a French chef. The entryway was tiny, barely enough for a host stand. A woman in a cocktail dress and diamond earrings had opened the door for them before moving to the stand and lifting an iPad.

“Matsumoto, two for 9:30.”

“Right this way.”

The hallway that followed was dark, but Sho could hear muffled laughter and chatter from a few rooms along the way. There was no open dining section. Every room was private, and Sho couldn’t help grinning. This was the kind of fancy place that Nino would utterly hate, even if he had the clout to get a table here. But this place absolutely rang true with what Sho had learned about Matsumoto Jun so far. Fancy. Exclusive. One of a kind.

Their room was Western-style, the walls peppered with black-and-white photographs of Notre Dame and the Louvre pyramid amid other Parisian shots. The hostess left them alone, closing the door. Sho sat down nervously across from Jun, who was taking off his jacket and draping it over the chair behind him. He stretched before sitting down, letting out a sigh of relief when his neck cracked a bit.

“Long day?” Sho asked.

“A shipment from Vladivostok was a few hours late. Some sort of customs issue,” Jun said, rolling up his shirt sleeves in a simple, elegant way that made Sho’s eyes wander. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind but it all worked out. The ugliest lamp I’ve ever seen, Soviet kitsch, but it’s not my place to judge our clients. Even though I totally do.”

“I’m glad it worked out.” Sho took his jacket off, wanting to mirror Jun’s comfort level. “Where’s the menu?”

Jun sat back lazily in the chair, smirking at him. “Place like this doesn’t have a menu, Sho-san. You eat what the chef makes for you.”

“Oh?”

“Trust me.”

They were served a bottle of white Bordeaux wine first, and Sho didn’t want to know what it was costing Jun to bring him here. But Sho saw the vintage Rolex on Jun’s wrist, recognized it for what it was fairly quickly. Sho had a few of his own, although Jun’s was, of course, a far more exclusive edition. Like the furniture he sold, Jun liked unique items. Things that set him apart. 

Sho wondered if he too was a unique item Matsumoto Jun had finally managed to capture. Despite the implications of that, he found that he liked the idea. Quite a bit.

They kept the conversation light. Problems with work. More about the Vladivostok issue. Nino’s upcoming filming in Taiwan. Of course Jun had a fancy restaurant recommendation in Taipei, but Sho quickly informed him of Nino’s simpler preferences. 

“But he makes millions.”

“And I’m telling you,” Sho said, smoothing the napkin over his lap. “I’m telling you he’s going to send his manager to grab him a bento from 7-Eleven.”

“The stars,” Jun mumbled, “they’re just like us.”

“They’re not quite like you, Matsumoto-san,” Sho pointed out, waving his hand around at their current location. “Mister ‘Usually Takes 2 Months to Get in Here.’”

Jun chuckled, nodding. “Point taken.”

For all that Jun projected an air of confidence in who he was, he still stumbled over his words a few times if their eyes met. Fancy watches and fancy clothes aside, Sho couldn’t help remembering the man from the Papaya Lounge. The anxious voice furious with his friend. He couldn’t help remembering Jun’s confessions from the cafe, how he’d shared how much Sho and 3 Wishes had meant to him. 

You don’t have to work so hard, Sho wanted to tell him. You don’t have to work so hard to win me over. 

You’ve already won.

Their food arrived in half an hour, and Sho thought his eyes would pop out of his head. The chef himself arrived with a three-tiered serving platter overloaded with fresh seafood. Oysters and shrimp and crab legs and caviar. And one tier consisting entirely of the item Sho had named as his favorite in his Ganba! Star Support video, fresh clams. The dipping sauces all seemed house-made, unique.

The chef and Jun conversed briefly in French, and it took everything Sho had not to just start laughing. He spoke French too. Of course he did.

They were left alone again, the massive tower of seafood between them. Sho had to peer through the center of the tower in order to spot his dining companion.

“Did you tell him I’m famous?” Sho asked teasingly.

Jun had a sip of wine before responding. “I didn’t have to tell him who you are. Surely everyone from Paris to Cannes knows the 3 Wishes discography as well as they know La Marseillaise.”

He laughed, unable to hide his amusement at this entire glorious over-the-top meal. He’d never had a first date of this caliber before, and he doubted he ever would again.

Much as Sho wanted to take his time, savor the exclusive meal in this secretive restaurant, everything tasted too damn good. He could hear Jun’s soft chuckles of amusement every time he had a bite of food that sent him to heaven. So when the chef returned with a second platter of rare clams an hour later, Sho nearly started crying in happiness.

“You like to eat.”

“More than almost anything,” Sho admitted, mouth full.

“You know, I remember some of the interviews you did from back then. I remembered that you’d given clams and shellfish as an answer, so initially I was going to surprise you. But people change over time, so that’s why I asked you to make me a video,” Jun admitted. “And because telling you that I remembered an interview you did from 20 years ago would probably be scary. But here I am coming clean and admitting it anyway.”

“You have a good memory. I don’t remember half the things I said back then. You’d do a whole bunch of them in a row. They’d always ask dumb stuff like which member of the group you’d date if you were a girl.”

“Do you remember who you picked?” Jun asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope…” Sho leaned forward, cocking his head. “Do _you_ remember?”

Jun simply nodded.

“Ah, but those questions are terrible in a group of three, you know? You pick one and then obviously reject the other. I mean, not that it was all that serious but…still. I’m sure I probably changed my answers from time to time.”

“Ninomiya-san,” Jun finally said. “There was one I remember where you picked him. You said he was easy to talk to.”

“Sounds about right. Not to say Ohno-san doesn’t have his good qualities.”

“Which one would you pick now?”

Sho laughed. “Neither!”

“Why not?”

“They never go out. They never do anything if they can help it. I’m usually the one who comes up with our plans, but it’s always going to be the same karaoke place or sitting around drinking at someone’s house. They like it that way. I’d rather be out with colleagues, friends. I’d rather be out eating clams off a fancy platter.”

Jun grinned. “Good. I’m glad. I’m that way too. It gets lonely at home sometimes, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well. I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me too.”

He let his attention fall back to the remaining food, their conversation slowing as they finished up their meal. After a few gourmet coffees, their dinner came to a gentle close.

Sho was putting on his jacket, unsure what to do next. It was close to midnight, and he’d have to catch a train pretty soon to avoid cab fare. Sho wasn’t hurting for cash, but he preferred to spend on more important things.

“Do you want to see where I work?” Jun asked, voice a bit hesitant.

“Really?”

Jun reached into the bag he’d brought with him. “Yeah, I’ve got the keys. I’d love to show you.”

He supposed it might be worth paying for a taxi home if he’d get to see the exclusive Nakamura Furniture Ginza showroom. 

“Let’s go. Let me see where the magic happens.”

—

Of course, he made a brief stop in the restaurant bathroom, taking a look at himself. He was stuffed, his eyes a bit tired. It had been a long day. But he wasn’t quite ready to leave Jun yet. He wasn’t used to feeling this way about someone so quickly, but after that second clam platter, Sho couldn’t afford to let this guy slip away.

He rinsed his mouth, downed a few breath mints to get rid of the coffee and the ocean. He found Jun waiting for him in the corridor, looking a bit giddy for their next adventure. It was a few blocks north, not on one of the main streets. In another world, perhaps, Sho would be brave enough to risk reaching for Jun’s hand, taking a big step forward. He settled for staying in this world, weaving through the Friday night crowds, walking in step with Jun instead.

“You’re not going to get in trouble bringing me here, are you?” Sho asked when they approached a three-story stone building, a simple plaque on the wall announcing it as Nakamura Furniture Ginza, Since 1959. A camera up on the wall was pointed at the doorway.

“This isn’t my first time bringing someone here this late…” Jun paused, fumbling with the keys. “I mean, this isn’t my first time bringing someone here to look at the furniture. A customer, you know. I’ve had customers come really late and I’ve shown them…I’ve shown them around…”

Sho laughed softly. “I know what you’re trying to say, it’s okay.”

The door finally unlocked for him, and Jun pushed his way inside. Sho followed, standing in the entryway while Jun locked up behind them and turned on the lights. They were in a reception area, not much more than an oak desk with a computer, a handful of strange looking chairs. None of them matched and yet they all seemed to work well together, fit the space appropriately. Behind the wall, Jun said, the rest of the floor was a dedicated store room for all the items customers had ordered. Some items would be shipped across Japan, others once received from the manufacturers would be packaged up and sent around the world.

There was a staircase in the rear and Jun led the way after leaving their bag and briefcase behind on the desk. Each floor had a theme, Jun explained as they climbed. The first level was home to pieces manufactured in Asia while the one above housed items from the rest of the world. There were private spaces on each floor where Jun or a colleague could meet with a buyer to describe what they wanted that might not already be in the collection, whether it was a rare piece from overseas or something they might want to have commissioned by a specific artisan or manufacturer.

Where Sho expected the space to be a bit cluttered like an antique store, everything was arranged in a manner that seemed purposeful. Painted screens, also for sale, separated most of the items in the Asia floor into individual spaces. Chairs and tables on tatami, bedframes and armoires. The floor above was more eclectic but no less ordered.

“Most of my apartment is IKEA,” Sho admitted, slowly walking through the space. Some pieces were elegant, others were a bit gaudy. He supposed there was something for all tastes at Nakamura Furniture Ginza, so long as those tastes were expensive.

“You shouldn’t tell me things like that,” Jun said a few steps behind him, running his fingers along a chest of drawers in search of non-existent dust.

“You should see Nino’s apartment,” Sho said, making Jun shudder in disappointment.

They wandered around, Sho losing track of time as they stopped in front of individual items. Jun explained the origins of each, noting which items he’d purchased on one of his overseas trips. The battles he’d fought in auction houses from Lima, Peru to Beirut. It was fascinating, seeing items that had been in royal palaces, in the homes of the uber-wealthy. Jun took pride in his work. Even if a customer’s tastes were the opposite of his own, he did everything in his power to find the perfect item for them. 

Sho couldn’t help but admire that level of dedication. But it didn’t surprise him either. He’d seen Jun’s dedication and commitment to his own happiness that night, had seen the look on Jun’s face when the seafood platter had been brought in, perfectly matching Sho’s tastes.

They stopped in front of a full-length mirror that had been propped against a wall, the wooden frame ornamented with hideous little carved cherubs. Jun started explaining it, that he’d found it on a trip to Poland, that it had needed a great deal of restoration work but that he knew there was a buyer for it. She just hadn’t come through the door yet. But as he talked and talked, relating minor, inconsequential details about the artist whose brain had thought cherubs on a mirror were a good idea, Sho stopped listening.

He simply stood there at Jun’s side, listening to his passionate chatter, watching him in the mirror and amazed by how things had gotten to this point. Months ago, Nino had called him at a bar, told him about that silly app. A favor for Aiba Masaki. And after all of that, after the first video for Kazue F, after that night at the Papaya Lounge, he’d somehow ended up here, standing beside this fascinating person. A person who’d loved him. Well. A person who’d loved Sho the idol, Sho the bad boy. A person who’d loved that Sho with his whole heart. A person who seemed to love everything with his whole heart, with all of himself.

A person he never would have met. Maybe a person he never _should_ have met. 

Sho impulsively reached out, grasping at the sleeve of Jun’s suit jacket. This stopped Jun’s talking in an instant. Neither of them said anything, still standing side by side, looking forward. Looking into the mirror, watching the other without actually having to face him.

Slowly, nervously, Sho’s hand moved down, down Jun’s sleeve until his fingers brushed against the back of Jun’s hand. He chose to be decisive, twining their fingers together and receiving no resistance. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, idol and fan, staring, waiting.

Sho had no idea where this would lead. He had no idea if this would even work. But he was so tired of being lonely.

“Why did you like me? Why was it me?” he asked Jun’s reflection in the mirror. 

Jun’s voice was even quieter. “I liked your teeth.”

“What?” he blurted out.

Jun squeezed his hand tight, that nervous stumbling returning to his voice. “I…I don’t know. You have kind of big teeth. One time I thought…I want him to bite me with those teeth.”

“My teeth?”

“Aside from that. That’s weird to say out loud to you, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just…well. But aside from that. You looked cool, you know. You were always pouting, you had that earring. You held the microphone a certain way. You were just cool, Sho-san, I don’t know how to put it into words. When I was confused, when I hated myself…I used to pretend you were like me. I used to pretend that you understood what it felt like. I couldn’t really talk to anyone, all my friends were straight until I got to university, found people I could trust. But before that, Sho-san, I relied on you. I needed you more than was healthy.”

Jun’s confession squeezed his heart, reached a place inside Sho that he knew all too well. Feelings he sometimes still felt when a university friend talked affectionately about his wife. When he was invited out with colleagues and knew he couldn’t bring a date. When only an hour or so ago he’d wanted to hold Jun’s hand just like this in the street and knew he simply couldn’t risk it.

He looked at Jun, at his willingness to be so vulnerable before him. “And now?”

“And now you’re not just a poster. You’re not words on a magazine page, you’re not that low voice in my headphones. You’re real, flesh and blood. You’re not this…caricature of the perfect boyfriend or the bad boy you shouldn’t bring home, whatever the marketing was. You’re nice. You’re funny. I like talking to you.” Jun squeezed his hand even tighter. “You came to my party, a stranger’s party, just to make me happy. You were real. And…and normally I don’t get this weepy or emotional unless I’ve had a few drinks, so this is getting a little awkward for me.”

The last thing Sho wanted was for things to be awkward, so he did what made the most sense. He turned, pulling Jun to him. And under the watchful eyes of the creepy mirror cherubs from Poland, Sho kissed him.

Jun’s free hand came up, touching his face. His mouth was soft, warm, so welcoming. Sho tilted a little, opting for a better angle and Jun’s hand moved, fingers slipping back until he was holding Sho by the back of his head, sliding through his hair. Softer, sweeter kisses grew longer, more needy. He gave and Jun took, moaning gently after going so long without this kind of joyful feeling.

He slipped a hand around Jun, under his jacket, hand resting against his shirt, feeling the heat of him. But that wasn’t enough, and Jun moved away, breaking their kiss to drag him over to one of the sofas nearby. Jun pushed him down onto it, taking his own suit jacket off before moving to sit on top of him. Sho sighed when their lips met again, when he felt Jun’s weight on his thighs.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, Jun’s hot mouth brushing along his jaw, below his ear, down his neck. Jun’s long fingers loosening his tie, lips hitting the collar of his shirt. Sho needed to touch, letting Jun’s soft and encouraging breaths guide him. His hands roamed, stroking up and down Jun’s thighs, slipping back to squeeze his ass.

“Are there…cameras in here?” Sho eventually asked, initial impulse finally giving way to reality. “Just wondering.”

Jun stopped abruptly, warm breaths ticklish against Sho’s neck.

“No…I…well, I guess I never thought…because I’ve never.” Jun cleared his throat. “Um, I’ve never…you know, not here so…”

“Sorry,” Sho murmured. “Sorry if I’m a buzzkill.”

“No,” Jun whispered, “no, you’re right.”

He moved, laughing a little as he grabbed his jacket, got back to his feet. He held out a hand, pulled Sho up. There was no hiding either of the gradually fading erections in their slacks, and they laughed together.

They headed back downstairs, Jun shutting out the lights while Sho put himself back together as best he could. To their relief, a review of the cameras in the showroom revealed that the ugly Polish mirror and the particular sofa they’d used were not in view of the cameras. It was too dark. The cameras were thankfully on their side.

“Sure I can’t interest you in something tonight, Sakurai-san?” Jun asked, fixing the hair that Sho had mussed as they left the building, locking it up tight. “Furniture-wise, of course.”

“Of course,” Sho mumbled, trying to keep himself together. “Sorry. None of the pieces you showed me fit with my current arrangement.”

“With your Billy bookcases, you mean,” Jun said with a bit of scorn.

He grinned. “Definitely a bad match for Billy.”

“I’m parked in the back,” Jun said. “Let me drive you home.”

Surprised, Sho accepted. He expected for Jun to drive a Mercedes or a BMW, something in line with the rest of his fancy clothes and demeanor, so he was almost disappointed at the sight of the four-door Honda hybrid in the small lot behind the furniture company.

Jun unlocked it, and they got inside. Jun handed him his phone. “Go ahead and tell Google where we’re going.”

They drove with the windows down, and thankfully, not to a soundtrack of 3 Wishes. Instead Jun had a Michael Jackson CD in his player. Once they were well on their way, Sho reached over, found Jun’s hand where it rested on his gear shift. Jun smiled, lacing their fingers together once more. 

If Sho invited Jun inside, he knew they’d have sex. He knew it, he’d felt it in the showroom, that electricity between them. This wasn’t a fluke, this thing they shared. He could still taste him, could still enjoy the phantom feeling of Jun’s mouth along his neck, his throat. But he wasn’t that young anymore, and even if Jun seemed alert, like he could still stay out having fun until the sun rose, Sho couldn’t. He didn’t want to disappoint Jun, be lackluster in bed.

It was almost 2:00 when Jun pulled over, putting the car in park. Sho reached out a hand, stroking Jun’s hair where it just grazed along his eyebrows, across his forehead.

“I need to see you again,” he admitted, taking in everything. Jun’s soft smile, that intensity in his eyes even now.

“Then you will,” Jun replied. “I promise.”

“Was it anything like you imagined?” he couldn’t help asking. “I’m asking you as my biggest fan.”

Jun snorted. “I usually imagined you with the earring, but I was a different person then. I much prefer reality to anything my teenage brain ever conjured up.”

Sho was pleased with that response. He leaned in, risking nosy neighbors to kiss Jun again, trying to show how much he wanted this. Jun seemed to be pretty good at taking a hint, opening his mouth, letting Sho’s tongue venture inside. It was addictive, kissing Jun, but he somehow managed to stop, brushing his finger along Jun’s bottom lip as he caught his breath.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Thanks for picking the best possible spot in my workplace to make out with me.”

Sho laughed at that, picking up his briefcase and opening the door. He came around the car, finding that Jun had leaned his arm on the door over the open window. Sho stroked his fingers along Jun’s sleeve, finding it hard to walk away.

“I’ll see you.”

Jun smiled. “I’ll see you.”

—

_You have a request from a Ganba! Star Support user! Click and earn today!_

_Hey there, Sakurai Sho (Talent ID: 3wishes_sho),_

_A Ganba! Star Support user would like a video from you: Jun M_

_Here are the instructions the user provided:_  
Sho-san, I’m going on a last-minute business trip to Marrakesh tomorrow !!!  
Will you please record a video of yourself doing the rap part of Majikaru Lamp so I can watch it on the plane? 

—

_You have a request from a Ganba! Star Support user! Click and earn today!_

_Hey there, Sakurai Sho (Talent ID: 3wishes_sho),_

_A Ganba! Star Support user would like a video from you: Jun M_

_Here are the instructions the user provided:  
Thank you for the Majikaru Lamp video! It’s a real treasure and it’s helping me while I’m so far from home. I’ll be here four more days. Can you record a video of yourself doing an extremely mundane task? LOL thank you_

—

_You have a request from a Ganba! Star Support user! Click and earn today!_

_Hey there, Sakurai Sho (Talent ID: 3wishes_sho),_

_A Ganba! Star Support user would like a video from you: Jun M_

_Here are the instructions the user provided:  
Sho-san, the video of you rapping while you washed dishes exceeded my expectations. I don’t think there’s anyone making videos on this app as good as yours. Anyway, this might not be a very interesting request, but what is your favorite color? Thanks!_

—

He was just coming out of a client meeting, had brought them to the elevator banks and said his goodbyes when the woman from human resources found him. Her demeanor was polite, but Sho knew there was no reason for the woman to seek him out unless something had gone wrong. 

Sho waited for the doors to close on the clients before he moved to approach her. “Yoshimoto-san,” he said in greeting, “how are you?”

“Sakurai-san, I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting. But do you have a few moments to talk in my office?”

He looked around. Nobody seemed to be staring at him or watching the conversation, so hopefully this didn’t mean that he specifically had fucked up. “Of course, lead the way.”

His heart pounded all the way down to Yoshimoto’s floor, and she closed her office door behind them. She sat at her desk, looking uncomfortable as she sat across from him. “Sakurai-san, I know you’ve been in your meeting with Nisshin Steel for most of the day, so I’m sure you haven’t checked your phone or computer recently?”

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Is something wrong?”

“I’m very sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but something has happened in regards to the app you are participating in. The Ganba! Star Support. Their team has probably tried reaching out to you already, but since you were in your meeting…well, they also called us directly since you provided our number on your contract. It’s all over the news right now as well.”

“What’s happened?”

“One of the celebrities using the app has been attacked.”

He gripped the arms of the chair. Nino…or Ohno…oh god. Oh god, if it was Nino or Ohno and he’d been in his fucking client meeting…

“It’s a young woman, I think she’s a popular Instagram celebrity. One of the people using the app had requested videos from her and somehow managed to determine where her home was based on the videos she’d sent him. He used the app to stalk her and broke into her home. She’s been stabbed, but fortunately a neighbor was able to intervene in time and chase the intruder away. The woman’s in the hospital and expected to fully recover.”

Relief flooded him, and of course he felt guilty for having that reaction, but at least he knew his friends were safe. “And the attacker?”

“The app company is working with police to turn over information to find him. He’s still out there, but they’ve released a name and photo since they had the man’s payment details from the app. I’m sure it will be over soon, but Sakurai-san, I called you in here because I’ve already spoken with my colleagues in the Legal department…”

“They want me to stop using it.”

“Yes,” Yoshimoto replied. “On the news, the CEO for the app company said they were already suspending service, but it’s been decided that you will no longer be allowed to participate if and when it may be up and running again. I’m sorry for any inconvenience, but this is for your safety and for the safety of your colleagues here.”

“Of course. Of course I understand, it’s not a problem at all.”

“Thank you for understanding.” Her face changed a little now that she’d delivered the bad news. “It was an odd little app, wasn’t it?”

He couldn’t help asking her. “Did you ever manage to get a video from Ohno-san?”

She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I requested one, but he didn’t make it. It seems like he wasn’t a very active user. Am I wrong?”

“I’ll get him to make you one, Yoshimoto-san. Free of charge. That’s a promise.”

She looked thrilled. “No rush, Sakurai-san. But thank you.”

He left her office, pulling out his phone to find an alarming number of emails and text messages and missed calls. Ohno. Nino’s manager. Ohno again. His mother, the only person in his family he’d told about participating in the app. Magnetik Mobile. Even Aiba Masaki had tried calling him. 

He went to his office, shutting the door, returning calls and emails for at least an hour. He spoke with Nino’s manager. Security precautions on set in Taipei were no different from usual, and Nino seemed fine. ‘Stalkers are going to stalk’ had apparently been Nino’s conclusion on the matter, that Ganba! Star Support had just been a means to an end for one sick individual. Ohno had already deleted his account but wasn’t too worried otherwise either. 

“But it was only a matter of time, I guess,” Ohno admitted. “Someone was going to find a way to abuse it.”

Sho couldn’t help thinking about Oguri Shun’s rather innocent request on Jun’s behalf. He’d been blocked by Magnetik Mobile for asking to meet Sho in person. That was a blatant violation of the app’s purpose. But yet this other person, this stalker, had used the app “the right way,” getting the woman he was obsessed with to record things that would give away her location. 

Without Ganba! Star Support, Sho would never have met Matsumoto Jun. But without Ganba! Star Support, perhaps it would have been a lot harder for the stalker to attack that poor woman. Sho remembered Nino’s warnings about going to the Papaya Lounge, but Sho had convinced himself that the message from Oguri had been sincere. All because he’d just wanted it to be true. That his biggest fan was out there and just wanted to meet him once. 

A chill ran down his spine. He’d gotten lucky. He’d gotten so lucky with Jun. He’d gotten a happy ending. The woman who’d been attacked…maybe she’d wanted to believe the same things. Maybe she’d been just like Sho, wanting to make her fans happy because of the happiness it provided her in return.

When his phone call with Ohno was over, Sho opened the app, staring at his profile page. The profile picture he’d agonized over. His precious five-star ratings. The five-star rating he’d received from “Jun M” after their night together, the rating given only minutes after Sho had gotten out of his car and bid him good night. 

Sho was grateful for everything, for the strange road he’d gone down the last few months. For the people who’d reached out to him. For Jun coming into his life.

But he had no regrets when he tapped through to the app’s administrative page, choosing the option to delete his account.

—

The plane ride home from Marrakesh had left Jun with a nasty cold, so their contact was limited the first few days. It was a Wednesday evening when Sho finally received a text.

_I know you had to delete Ganba, but the question still stands about your favorite color._

Sho smiled at his phone. He’d been busy at work, hadn’t had time to finish making that video for Jun before everything had gone to hell. 

_I know this isn’t a 2,000 yen response, but sometimes it’s yellow and sometimes it’s black._

It was another hour before Jun was able to respond. Sho pictured him walking through the Nakamura Furniture showroom with a client. Did he stop in front of that ugly mirror? Did he think about what they’d done together?

_I can work with yellow and black. Pick a time._

Like before, Jun offered three time slots over the next three Saturday nights. Unlike the last time when Sho had been afraid of looking desperate, this time he selected the first one available. He hoped Jun was just as excited as he was. But of course, just like his previous enigmatic messages, Jun’s response was simple.

 _Meet me where I work, my car’s going to be parked in the same spot. 8:00 PM this Saturday._

Sho was just about to respond in the affirmative when a second message from Jun came through.

_Pack an overnight bag._

Sho grinned. Yeah, Jun was probably just as excited as he was.

Bag in tow, he was already leaning against Jun’s car at 7:54 PM on Saturday when Jun came around the corner to the parking area behind Nakamura Furniture. He was a little tanned from his trip, dressed in a button-down and khakis, jingling his car keys in his hand as he approached. 

The Ginza streets were crowded not far away, but it was already getting dark and Jun didn’t hesitate, moving forward to crowd into Sho’s space, greeting him with a kiss that spoke of better things to come. Sho eventually had to stop him, stroking along Jun’s shoulder.

“Yellow and black…are we going to a beekeeping exhibit?” Sho teased, seeing the sheer want in Jun’s eyes. “You know, since bees are black and yellow?”

“No,” Jun said, breath warm against his face.

“You said pack an overnight bag. We’re going to a field of sunflowers, sleeping under the stars. Bit cheesy.”

Jun grumbled under his breath. “Wrong again.”

“Spontaneous trip to Germany. Yellow and black, two thirds of their flag. Maybe Belgium.”

“Wrong and wrong,” Jun said, reaching forward to pinch Sho in the side, making him jolt a little.

But still not enough to stop his teasing. “Wait, it’s two-thirds of Jamaica…”

“Would you get in the car? I’m not telling you anything.”

Sho kissed him quickly before pushing him back, doing as he was told. They didn’t drive to a field of sunflowers or the airport. Instead Jun got onto the highway, heading toward the mountains. Sho decided not to ask questions. The restaurant had been great the last time. But it still made Sho nervous, going somewhere without knowing the itinerary. He liked to set expectations, but it was obvious that Jun was not going to be all too accommodating sometimes.

It was probably going to be a problem for them down the road, but that implied that there was going to be a “them” in the future…and Sho was pleased enough at that concept that he let it all slide for now.

They were on the road for over two hours before pulling off the highway, taking local roads through Karuizawa in Nagano. They arrived at a private road with a gate not far from some of the resort hotels in the area. Jun merely rolled down his window, flashing some sort of ID or pass at a reader next to the gate. It opened and closed behind them, and Jun drove them to a sleek, contemporary home tucked away into the woods, parking in a carport just beside it.

They walked together, heading inside. It was fully furnished. He took his shoes off, bag slung over his shoulder as he took in the space. Living area with a low table, fully stocked kitchen. A wide stairway led upstairs to a pair of bedrooms, a toilet room, and a luxurious bathroom with a huge sunken tub beside a window offering unobstructed views of the mountains. Well, it was rather dark now but in the morning the view would be incredible.

He turned around, found Jun standing in the doorway looking pleased with himself.

“Is this your house?” Sho asked him, and Jun laughed.

“No way, I’m not as wealthy as you seem to think I am.”

He shrugged, deciding not to comment on yet another of Jun’s fancy vintage watches. “Then whose house is this?”

“It belongs to a very rich politician who has hideous taste in lamps. Thankfully, he hasn’t brought any of them here to his little home away from home.”

“This isn’t the prime minister’s house, is it?”

Jun shook his head. “No. But he’d certainly like to be someday. Like so many obscenely rich folks in this country, he owed me a favor. I talked a retired welder in Hakodate into making one last ugly lamp for Mr. Politician before he died, so one night in a house he’s not using isn’t such a high price to pay.”

Sho tightened his hold on the strap of his bag. “He doesn’t know you brought a guy here, does he?”

“Sho-san, does it matter?” Jun said with an exasperated sigh. 

“After what happened with Ganba, yeah, it kind of does matter to me. It matters where I go with another man and who else knows about it.”

Jun’s eyes widened, and he looked ashamed. He set his bag down, walking forward with hands held out in apology. “I shouldn’t be so flippant about it, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not used to just…packing a bag and running off,” he admitted. 

“I get that,” Jun replied. “I get that about you. That’s why we’re not in Tokyo. That’s why we’re not at the Four Seasons or the Mandarin Oriental where even though it’s 2018, you’d still have to go in first and I’d have to wait 20 or 30 minutes to make sure no one figured out what’s going on between us. I’m not stupid. I get that you can’t be who you are because of work, because of how important that is to you. Sho-san, I get that. And I want you to trust me. Especially after what happened with Ganba and considering how we met, I _need_ you to trust me.”

“I don’t need the Four Seasons or the Mandarin Oriental,” Sho interrupted. “You could have just come to my place. You would have probably had a stroke at the furniture I own, but you could have just come there.”

Jun’s smile was fairly weak. “I want to make you happy.”

Sho set his bag down. He walked over, standing in front of him. “That’s why I’m telling you that. We’re still just getting to know each other, but you don’t have to treat me like one of your superstar clients. I just want to be near you. I just want to learn more about you. The setting isn’t as important. This house is nice, don’t get me wrong. I love this. But…I’m just telling you that simple is okay, too.”

“For the record,” Jun said, a playful edge to his voice, “I figured if we were all the way out here, we wouldn’t have to be quiet. That was um, the real selfish intention of coming here…”

Sho’s brain shut down. “Oh?”

Jun’s words started blurring together, he was talking so fast. “I mean, respecting your privacy…that was number one, obviously. But having obnoxiously loud sex with you, that was an extremely close number two. Context. There was this really really really noisy British couple on a honeymoon in the hotel room next door to me in Marrakesh and they simply…they simply would not stop, and every night I had to come back from negotiating with this furniture dealer in terrible, terrible French all day and all I had to comfort me while they were fucking and growling and whatnot was the stupid video of you rapping and washing dishes and I was thinking, well, why can’t I have obnoxiously loud sex too…that’s not to say I have this, you know, this expectation that you have to be loud, but like…knowing that we have the place to ourselves and no neighbors for a few hundred meters makes it so incredibly difficult to stand here and have an argument with you when we could be…”

“Shut up already,” Sho said, stepping into Jun’s space and kissing him.

Their clothes came off in quick succession, fumbling with buttons in between overexcited kisses and nervous laughter. The highlight, of course, was when Sho managed to unbutton Jun’s khakis, tugging them down only to find that Jun’s ass was trapped inside an ugly pair of yellow and black paisley-patterned boxer briefs.

Jun showed off, kicking off the khakis and doing a modeling twirl. Despite the hideous underwear, his body was absolutely perfect.

“Just for you, Sho-san. Your favorite.”

“After all that? It’s just your underwear?”

Jun slipped his fingers inside the waistband, lowering them the slightest bit down his hips, revealing a bit more of the trail of dark hair that drew Sho’s eyes ever downward. “If I recall, you even admitted it wasn’t a 2,000 yen response to my color question. So I acted accordingly.”

Sho wrinkled his nose at the answer provided. “Off.”

Jun complied.

They didn’t bother closing the door to the glass shower compartment, taking advantage of the space to kiss a little more, mess around a little more. They made efforts to get clean, but the temptation was too strong to quit and move to another room just yet. Sho urged Jun to rest his back against the wall, watched him bite his perfect lip as Sho moved to kneel before him, teasingly stroking up and down his thighs as they kept wasting water.

“You have no idea how many years I’ve imagined you right where you are right now.”

“A rather selfish fan,” Sho remarked, pressing a kiss against Jun’s abdomen, feeling his cock twitch against the skin of his throat. “Expecting your idol to suck your dick.”

“I’ve always been rather spoiled.” Jun brushed a wet clump of Sho’s hair away from his eyes. “Sorry.”

Sho reacted simply, moving his mouth aside, trailing across Jun’s slick skin to gently nip at his thigh with his teeth.

“Fuck…” Jun’s voice echoed through the room, making Sho smile. “For real?”

_I want him to bite me with those teeth._

“For real,” Sho replied quietly, earning Jun’s gasps of astonishment with each little bite he took of the meat of his thigh, the soft skin of his belly. He stroked Jun’s cock slowly, teasing him until he couldn’t take any more of Jun’s desperate begging. He moved inward, taking him in his mouth, doing his best to find a rhythm that was easy, comfortable.

Jun sighed, said his name and only his name, just as he probably had when he was younger. Lonely. When he relied on Sho for so much, even though they’d never met. It wasn’t too comfortable with his knees on the slick tile, the shower spray pelting him as he gave his all to bringing Jun off. If Jun’s moans of pleasure were exaggerated, Sho didn’t much mind, each sound echoing through the room, prickling against his skin, urging him to continue. 

Jun had said that he wanted to make Sho happy. Sho did his best to prove the feeling was mutual.

Eventually Sho looked up, sliding back a little to circle the sensitive head of Jun’s cock with his tongue. “How did you imagine this ending?”

Jun had his eyes shut, shaking his head a little. “Don’t stop…”

“Tell me. I want to know what you want.”

“I want a lot of things,” Jun admitted, groaning in impatience. “Everything.”

Sho stroked him a little harder now, liking the sight of Jun struggling a little. “Where do you want to come? Look at me.”

Jun obeyed, water running down his body, hair plastered to his face as he held tight to the metal bar inside the shower compartment, muscles tense all over. Sho could get used to this. Jun reached out a hand, fingers shaking a little as they brushed against Sho’s mouth, dragged down his chin to his throat.

“And then?” Sho moved back to Jun’s thigh, biting gently once more, smiling at the way Jun’s body jerked in response. When he didn’t receive a verbalized reply, he bit again, a little harder. “Jun? And then what?”

“Please…”

“Please?”

“ _Fuck me_.”

He nearly gagged, a little overeager to move things in that direction as he took Jun’s cock back in his mouth, fingers teasing along his inner thighs. He moved with purpose, reaching out and finding Jun’s hand, bringing it to the back of his head. He moaned, mouth full and jaw aching, when Jun’s grip tightened in his hair. His knees were killing him, but he kept going, consumed with the desire for Jun to get what he wanted, moaning a little when he felt the first rush of warmth on his tongue, moving in tandem with Jun as he bucked instinctively against his mouth.

He got to his feet, leaving Jun where he was and deciding that they could clean up any messes in the morning. He skipped a towel, moving around their clothes to pick up his bag, walking to the closest bedroom and setting it down. He was dripping everywhere, could still taste Jun’s come as he fumbled with the zipper of the bag, looking for lube and one of the condoms he’d packed.

He heard the shower shut off, and Jun found him a short time later, a little out of sorts as he came wandering into the room. Maybe he still couldn’t believe this was happening. He was cute like this, making his way across the floor to him, pushing his wet hair out of his face, looking lost. 

They gave no thought to this not being their own house, Sho knocking his bag to the floor once he had what he needed, some of his clothes spilling out. He tugged the blankets off the bed and sat down, Jun moving to sit on top of him as they’d done at the furniture showroom. But this time they were naked, even needier, even more desperate for one another.

Their kisses were sloppy, their touches were rough, Sho letting out a gasp of protest when Jun licked, sucked at his collarbone. They toppled back, Jun’s mouth everywhere, tongue circling his nipple, dragging his mouth down to his navel. He eventually had to force Jun to move, the mattress creaking as they turned. He grabbed the lube, listened to Jun’s impatient whimpers once he started stroking inside him with his finger.

“Please…” Jun was muttering, falling apart under Sho’s touch.

“Not yet,” Sho chided him. “I’m not going to risk hurting you.”

Jun’s face was nothing but childish impatience. “This went faster in my mind when I was a virgin and didn’t have to think about these things…”

Sho laughed at him, slowly introducing another finger, sinking deeper as Jun’s body adjusted to the added intrusion. Jun was on his back, knees up and legs apart, arm behind his head. Eyes shut tight and sighing softly as Sho touched him. Hips slowly arching up, working to meet Sho’s fingers, anxious to drive them deeper inside.

“You look so good like this.”

“I can’t possibly,” Jun muttered.

“Stay like that,” he murmured, slipping his fingers out, reaching for the condom packet and the lube bottle. “Stay just like that for me.”

With a little bit of effort, a little bit of adjusting, and a pleasurable sigh from Jun that nearly ended things as quickly as they started, Sho soon found himself exactly where he wanted to be. He balanced himself atop Jun, brushing soft kisses against his face. Jun was competitive, arms around him, trying to match Sho kiss for kiss. Jun had openly admitted that he was rather spoiled. And Sho wanted nothing more than to spoil him. Jun had gotten him like he’d probably gotten so many others before.

He gradually let lustful impatience win out against a measured approach, listening to Jun’s urgent moans beneath him, listening to the urgent thump of the headboard against the wall, the mattress doing its best to put up with their vigor. It felt good, it felt so good, driving his cock inside Jun again and again, knowing that nobody else could hear. Knowing that these moments were theirs and theirs alone.

He simply could not believe an app had brought him here, right here, to Jun’s mouth desperately seeking his. To Jun’s heels digging into his ass, desperate to take all of him, harder and harder and faster and more. When he cried out, wordlessly, coming only moments after Jun begged him to, it was a sound he’d never allowed himself to make. Even if it was just for now, just for now in this house that wasn’t theirs, he felt free. He felt like he could do, feel, think, say, scream anything. Anything.

He was happy. He was stupidly happy.

“Um, you’re heavy,” Jun protested a short time later, bringing Sho out of the clouds and back to reality.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, moving away, heading to throw his condom out. But when he came back, Jun smiled, opening his arms, needing him close.

“You weren’t faking it, were you?” Jun teased him.

“Nuh uh.” Sho pressed a kiss to Jun’s shoulder. “I snore, should I go in the other room?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Sho froze, only to be pushed over, for Jun to start laughing at him. “Of course I don’t want you to leave,” Jun said. “If you snore, I’ll just push you over on your other side.”

Jun leaned over, turning out the light.

“‘Should I go in the other room,’ he says after fucking me like that,” Jun snickered in the darkness. “Unreal.”

Sho rolled his eyes, letting Jun spoon up behind him. There was still a lot to learn, being with Matsumoto Jun. But he found that he was a very willing student.

—

He was out of it, jolting in bed when the unfamiliar phone alarm went off. It was still dark and he groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. He was just about to fall back asleep when the sheets were tugged away, when he felt sudden kisses pressed against his skin.

“What time is it?”

He felt a few fingers pressed against his lips. He wasn’t allowed to talk. With the lights out, with the unfamiliar bedroom shrouded in darkness, the sensations were heightened. Jun’s tongue around his nipple, Jun’s firm hand between his legs moving to stroke his cock. 

Jun had set an alarm to mess with him in the middle of the night?

The novelty of it all combined with Jun’s gentle jerking motions had him hard soon enough. He could get used to this. Well. So long as it wasn’t on a night when he had work in the morning. He liked how badly Jun wanted him, hearing a bit of fumbling and the sharp squeeze of a lube bottle before Jun was back, rolling a condom onto him as though he’d done this in the dark a million times before. The thought made Sho instantly jealous, waking him up all the more. 

Jun still said absolutely nothing, tugging on Sho’s tired limbs, pulling him into a seated position. The room still smelled like sex from before, he could smell Jun, felt Jun’s arms come around him, bit his lip at Jun’s sharp inhaled breath as he sank down onto his cock. Sho groaned, unable to keep quiet, feeling the tight warmth of Jun all around him for a second time that night.

It was slower this time, now that they’d already gotten that first frantic fuck out of the way. Sho let Jun do what he wanted, take what he wanted. He rested his hands on Jun’s back, hugging him against him. It felt good, different from earlier, but just as good, letting Jun grind down on him.

He gasped when Jun’s mouth found his ear, sucking his earlobe. Why had people been so god-damn obsessed with that earring? They rocked like that, bodies close and breaths hard for several perfect minutes. He fumbled in the dark, earning a soft chuckle as he struggled to find Jun’s face. He grabbed hold at last, bringing his lips to Jun’s as he felt that inevitable rush coming close, the need to come. He stayed close, as close as Jun would let him manage, tasting his sweat.

He gave in, shuddering, shaking as Jun’s movements atop him slowed. His heart was in overdrive, beating fast as he reached an awkward hand between them, finding that Jun was already hard. Their hands collided as Sho tried to help him along. He pressed sloppy kisses against Jun’s neck, listened to Jun’s soft cries fill the room. It wasn’t long before Jun came, the two of them catching most of it in their hands.

“Why’d you set an alarm?” Sho mumbled, feeling sweaty and gross but incredibly satisfied. “Fucking on a fixed schedule sounds more like something I’d do.”

“Come with me.”

They did a quick rinse in the shower before filling up the massive tub. The timing had been eerily perfect, the two of them sitting together in the warm water just as the mountains started to appear out the window, glimmering in the morning sunlight. Jun’s hand found his.

“Too cheesy?”

Sho smiled. “Nah. Sometimes cheesy is just right.”

—

It was the same karaoke place, the same room they usually visited. Ohno was on his fourth beer, which meant it was time for Matsuyama Chiharu. Nino was nibbling on some Okinawa-exclusive potato chips he’d gotten on a variety shoot in Naha, complaining to Sho about Ohno’s limited karaoke imagination.

Magnetik Mobile had re-launched Ganba! Star Support a week earlier, although things had changed quite drastically. Participating celebrities’ videos were all screened before they were sent off to a user to ensure that it wasn’t possible to determine their filming location. And the message requests were far more limited. Standard birthday greetings. Standard cheers of support. Most of the customization was lost.

People were still participating. The allure of a video message from your favorite celebrity hadn’t entirely faded yet. Surely there would be copycats on the market in the future, more apps looking to forge those connections. To offer those unique experiences.

But that was all over for the three members of the former idol group 3 Wishes. Nino had made a good chunk of money, but they’d decided to leave the app and its associated risks to others. Someone’s fifteen minutes was always on the verge of being up, so Ganba wasn’t going to have trouble attracting talent in the future.

Sho didn’t miss it too much. He was still making videos with as much effort as he could muster sometimes, but that was for an audience of one. He didn’t charge for his services, but since he was often busy with work and his boyfriend was always globe-trotting in search of the next fabulous couch or end table, they didn’t get to meet as often as he’d like. But Jun’s requests and the resulting videos from Sho went a long way to connecting them from across the country or across the world.

And besides, without the middleman that was Ganba! Star Support, Sho felt a great deal more comfortable sending videos of a sexual nature along if they were going directly to the person who’d asked for it.

This week Jun was in New York, and he had already sent Sho a picture of a Majikaru Lamp single he’d spotted in some secondhand market in the city’s Chinatown. There were at least 2 more Matsuyama Chiharus in the queue when Sho’s phone vibrated on the table with an incoming text. Nino took a quick glance, saw who it was from.

He rolled his eyes, munching on a chip. “Did you tell him all three of us were going to be together tonight? I’m not singing with you two fools unless he pays for it.”

Sho sighed. Poor Jun was never going to get the 3 Wishes reunion he wanted. Fortunately enough, Sho himself seemed to be a good enough consolation prize.

“He’s going to keep asking, so get used to it,” Sho said, grabbing his phone from the table.

“This is why you never meet with these people,” Nino teased. “They can be so unreasonable.”

Sho tried not to smile at the mixture of eggplant and 100 emojis followed by a simple message.

_Good video. Great dick. Make me another one. Love Jun M._

Sho shook his head. He was on the verge of typing _When do I get a video_ before giving in and deciding to spoil Jun as he’d been doing right from the start.

 _Coming right up_ , he typed. _Anything for my biggest fan._


End file.
